Lullabies and Broken Wings
by ThisVioletofMine
Summary: Fem!Robin, AU. Agatha Grayson finds herself in endless trouble when she's captured by the Joker and forced to carry his heir. Not only that, but she's a tiny girl of 15 whose body and mind aren't ready for motherhood. How will she get through this one with her sanity intact? Rated for violence. NO SEXUAL CONTENT.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm posting this first chapter as a sort of preview, and whether or not I expand on this idea depends on your reviews.**

**Warnings: This has lots of my opinions on abortion and such. If you are offended by anything pro-life (I am pro-life all the way) then do not read. Contains teenage pregnancy, but not by the usual methods, as you'll see. Some sensitive content. However, there is NO sexual content, no pairings so far, and this is not ****rape. Also warning: amazingly long rant in the AN at the bottom. Ye be warned.**

**Anyways, this is a Fem!Robin story and while most people usually make her name Rachel- since it's so much like Richard- I wanted to make this unique-er. Her name is Agatha Marie Grayson. Please don't hate on her name for not starting with an R.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice.**

Agatha loved her hair long. It might not be the most logical style, her being a crime-fighter and martial artist among other things (after all, it was almost as dangerous as having a cape- which she also had, the rebel- since it could get pulled or caught on something), but she preferred it that way. She- for some reason she didn't quite understand herself- simply relished the feeling of the soft ebony locks cascading down her slim shoulders, resting as a comforting weight on her back. Maybe it substituted for the friendly touches she secretly adored but didn't get near enough of with Bruce Wayne as a father.

Now, he was very affectionate towards her, don't be mistaken. He just didn't do as well with touches. Words were his weapons, his comfort and his safety. She had just learned to tamp down her own preferences and make words her comfort too.

Still, as she flew through the crisp nights, soaring from roof to roof, her love for her hair would be made anew as it flew right behind her, catching the wind and fluttering as gracefully as the body it was attached to. Every time she did a flip- did _any _form of acrobatics, really- her heart would beat twice as fast and adrenaline would rush through her, and her hair would flow ceaselessly behind her, constant and reassuring.

However, tonight she was thinking something completely different- somewhere along the lines of_ I hate it I hate it I hate it-_ as those very black locks, the same ones that usually made her internally smile, were snagged around a fat, greasy hand and woven through some sick bastard's groping fingers. She squealed in surprise and was sent flying backwards into the alley's wet, _hard_ wall. A groan escaped her parted lips as she sat there, rubbing her head.

"See, I toldja she'd show!" Fat Goon #1 sneered with a giggle unbefitting for such a large, burly man. Gatzi snarled at him, jumping up to charge once more, before hissing in pain and collapsing back against the wall. On her earlier flight via United Hairlines, she had slid across the rough, gravelly ground before being stopped rather harshly by the wall. Now she finally noticed the large tears in her black leggings and sleeves, and the deep, jagged scrapes underneath. _Goodbye dermis, epidermis; it was nice while it lasted._ Just moving her arm slightly sent shooting pain straight through her nervous system and to her brain, making her gasp. And to make matters worse, the thick rainfall was hitting her wounds hard, mercilessly, making them flare uncontrollably. She wanted to sleep, wanted to cry, release the tears she could feel getting pent up behind her masked eyes.

But no, she was Robin, prodigy of the goddamn _Batman_, and she was _going_ to stand up and _fight_.

"Lookit, baby Birdie's tryina' stand all by hersewf!" Fat Goon #2 chuckled, smiling a smile that was only a replica of his boss's. She stumbled to her feet, good hand flying to her black utility belt, searching for something to help her out of this mess. Her fingers wrapped around the familiar shape of the communicator, and her gloved thumb pressed the _emergency call _button before #2 could smash it into the wall. She smirked her signature smirk, one almost as famous- and fear inducing- as the Joker himself.

"Too late, _porcine._" She cackled madly, cherishing the looks of uncertainty crossing the idiots' faces. #1's blade shook just slightly. _They're coming, _She thought smugly, _and these swine won't last another minute._

"Now now, Miss Birdbrain, that's no way to treat your escorts." Came a patronizing voice from the shadows. Even without the clichéd lightning strike lighting up his silhouette from behind, Gatzi knew exactly who it was.

She growled low in her throat, tired to her core and just wishing this long, work-yourself-to-the-absolute-limit night to be _over _already. Batman was off-world on some stupid mission, and he had of course tasked her with his precious city's protection. Sure, she had thought, I can handle it.

… Nope.

Hadn't she had enough bad guys to fight in less than four hours? First it had been Riddler, then Two-Face, and then some random dude who thought he was incredibly fearsome just because he could move rocks with some stupid-looking 'magic dance'. (No, he couldn't move the very rock they stood on; just round, throwable rocks. And you know how many possibly harmful sized rocks you'll find in a Gotham bank, much less the whole city? None... She still had pebbles in her steel-toed boots.) And it always started with the stupid, guileless goons who honestly needed to be kicked in the face. Multiple times. With a cleat.

Then would come the 'big bosses', the ones who dress the most ridiculously and somehow are feared by more people than their stupid goons are. They shout out something threatening, she taunts and slaughters the English language, and then she ties their hands to their ankles before they can blink and leaves them for the police.

This had occurred at least four times tonight; what was up with these morons? Couldn't they take a freaking break for _one _night, let her get some sleep? She was totally not feeling the aster.

While surrendering sounded great to her lazy, dead-tired side at that exact moment, she knew she had to just hang in there, just long enough for her team to arrive and help her whip this clown's ass into next Tuesday.

A grey canister hitting her shoulder brought her out of her dark reverie, and started spewing gas quicker than her dulled, tired reflexes could react. The green gas went straight up her nose, into her mouth, invading her lungs and making her see yellow as her head started spinning. A laugh ripped its way right out of her mouth, echoing on the hard bricks. It was joined soon after by another, then another, and before she could reach her antidote- '_third pocket to the right, third pocket to the right, Gat!'_\- she had lost so much oxygen that her vision swam and all memory seemed to abandon her, including how to stand upright. She collapsed to the ground once more, making her legs and arm scream in protest as she herself screamed in hysterical laughter that just _wouldn't stop_. The Joker himself started laughing alongside her, their cackling joining in a glorious, horrific harmony of cacophony. Finally, after almost two minutes of being oxygen-starved and hysterical, Gatzi Grayson laughed herself into unconsciousness.

~000~

When Agatha first regained awareness, her hyper-tuned sense of smell immediately told her where she was; hospital. Without using any other senses, it would have been an easy guess: disinfectant and rubbing alcohol scents wafted right into her nose, making her cringe. With this revelation brought many questions: _Why am I in a hospital? Why can't I remember anything past laughing? Am I Agatha, or Robin?_ Wiggling a sore knee around, she realized there were no leggings adorning her slender legs. _Okay, am I naked?_ She panicked, wiggling her arm slightly and sighing in relief when she felt a sleeve by her shoulder and a blanket resting beneath, covering her legs. _Ugh- why do my eyes hurt so much? How long have I been out?_

After habitually waiting five minutes and not sensing any nearby threats, Gatzi peeled her groggy eyelids open and blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog. Thankfully, the (probably blinding) overhead fluorescents were off; the only light came from somewhere to her right.

It was a medium-sized hospital room, with shiny white tiles and hideous tan walls. On the wall opposite was a line of white cabinets and a counter with an attached sink, and next to her bed was a heart monitor and saline drip, attached to her left arm. She wore a loose-fitting hospital gown that was boringly white with pale blue diamonds on it.

But what made her rethink her deductions of earlier was the wall to her right, where the light source was. The wall was made entirely of glass with a set of sliding double-doors, only opened with a passcode lock. On the other side was a large (_factory?_) room full of crates and multiple doors leading to mysterious places.

Suddenly, the memories of her apparent capture rushed right at her, bringing with them a terrible migraine that caused her to clutch her head and cry out. The heart monitor started beeping louder and blinking, making a screeching noise that only made her headache worse.

The doors slid open and hurried footsteps approached her, a cold hand pressing to her forehead. Buttons clicked and the loud screeching stopped, but her head was still pounding agonizingly. She leaned forward, clutching her head, and screamed as pain flared up in her stomach, arm, leg, and back.

"It's alright, hon, you're okay, I'm just going to get you some medicine, okay?" A woman's voice asked gently between screams. Agatha, in too much pain to do much of anything productive except clench her eyes shut, nodded and the woman scurried off to some other part of the room. Hot tears fell down the teen's face as a pain she had never experienced before kept stabbing at her relentlessly.

A tiny pinch in her neck alerted Gatzi to the woman's presence beside her once more, and within seconds the throbbing was dying down to a fuzzy pulse in the back of her skull. She sighed in relief and wiped away her tears.

"Th-thanks." She rasped, _why did her throat have to hurt so freaking much?_ The woman nodded and handed her a glass of water.

The woman was maybe in her late thirties, short in stature and of average weight. Her hair was a light auburn color and cut short to hug her head, and her eyes were an intelligent brown. She wore thick-rimmed glasses and a white lab coat over a blue tee shirt and black sweatpants. The Bat-Detective side of Agatha was confused at the unprofessional state of dress.

_Batman!_ Gatzi startled, realizing that if the Dark Knight was not currently at her side, he probably had no idea where she was. He had a habit of always being _extremely_ close by whenever she was in the hospital, regardless of his other duties. That gave her goosebumps and fear stabbed at her heart. Where was she?

"What's going on?" She questioned the doctor, "Who are you?"

The brunette smiled slightly. "I am Doctor Janet Kassey, your OB-GYN." She introduced. Gatzi snarled.

"I already have a doctor, and you are _not-_" She froze, paling. "-did you say _OB?_ As in, _Obstetrician?_" She whispered. Dr. Kassey nodded, surprised at her reaction. She _was_ aware of her situation, right? The look on the tiny girl's face told her no. Troubled, Kassey gasped a little and hurried out of the room, towards the phone her captor told her to use.

The number automatically dialed itself as soon as she put the phone to her ear.

"_How is miss Robin doing?" _Came the deep voice of the Joker. She shuddered, as she did every time she heard it. And did he say Robin? Like, the _Batman's_ partner?

Well… in a way it sort of made sense, made a small connection in her head as to why the girl might have been a target in the first place. Maybe this was to get revenge on his arch-nemesis? Did he know her secret identity?

"She- ugh, why the hell does she act like she has no idea what's going on? You told me she consented!" She growled.

See, Janet believed herself to be a good woman, to put it plain and simple. She didn't lie and she generally put her patients' wellbeing in front of her own. So when a jovial woman came into her clinic, knocked her out and brought her to this hellhole with orders to artificially give _The Joker, _of all people, an heir, she had of course asked plenty of questions to at least avoid dying a bad person if she had to. She was told the girl was nineteen (very tiny for her age), had volunteered to be a carrier, and that she would be unharmed after her job was done. That had been the best Janet could dare to hope for, and, really wanting to live and get back to her elderly mother, who needed her, she had gone through with the procedure.

But now that it had come back to haunt her after only a fortnight, she had a feeling this would be a massive problem.

"_Oh dearest, I lied! I'm a _villain, _remember?" _He sneered annoyingly. Janet's heart dropped to her stomach. 'What have I done?' "_And it's not my fault that you believed me so easily!" _While it made her slightly angry, Janet held her tongue. He did have a point and besides, she had sassed him enough already, hadn't she? She really did want to live through this ordeal.

"H-how old is she, really?" She asked in a tiny voice, fearing the answer.

"… _Old enough."_ He replied, then hung up. She stood there, frozen.

"W-what have I _done?" _She whispered, shaking. She was so stupid, accepting something the Joker had said as truth, ignoring her common sense scolding her and telling her not to do it, impregnating a- a_ child!_

She dropped the phone and ran back into the med bay, where the pale teenager laid stock-still, waiting for her to say something. The small girl easily noticed her obvious distress, and her eyes widened in fear. Hurrying to try and fix whatever she could, Janet smoothed her crumpled lab coat and put on a reassuring, yet smile-less face.

"I-"

The girl jumped up, disconnected herself from the various machines, and was at her side before she could register it.

Gat punched her left cheek, then swept her feet out from under her. She then rested her foot not-so-gently on the woman's stomach. Janet, thinking fast, reached out a long arm and pressed two fingers into the girl's midsection, wincing when she cried out in agony and fell to the floor.

The teen backed herself up, sliding on her butt until her back hit the wall, and then with a pale, shocked face ripped the front of her gown open to reveal her naked chest. Gatzi hardly noticed her nudity, however, as her attention was drawn solely to the small, straight line of sutured-together flesh right on her abdomen; a recovering incision that was now almost a scar.

"_What the hell did you do to me?"_ Gatzi growled in revulsion and complete fury. Her long fingernails dug into her pale skin and her whole body began to shake. "_Rahat, rahat, rahat, cățea, oh iad, Doamne ajută-mă, la naiba, la naiba, la naiba,"_ She muttered under her breath.

Janet adjusted her glasses and crawled over to the teen, very slowly. A burning question bubbled in her chest as she stared helplessly at the girl; her long, tangled ebony hair rested like a rat's nest atop her head, contrasting greatly with the paleness of her skin and making her already-small form seem even tinier.

"H-how old are you?" She whispered to the shivering child. Gatzi gravely stared at her, blue eyes watering. She knew a question like _that_, spoken in this particular context and _that _particular tone, was not a good thing. She narrowed her eyes- which felt so naked with her mask- and snarled, folding her gown back over her exposed breasts. She might have not grown _at all_ in the two years she'd been on the team, and she may have been slightly flat-chested and very bony and underweight, but the question still made her sizzle even more.

"I'm _15_, you _bitch._" She spat, smirking at the stricken look on the woman's face. "Now I ask again, _what the hell did you do to me?_" She wondered if Superboy's tough-guy death glare could cause as much shivering as she just did. The doctor- she refused to call her _obstetrician_\- gathered her courage and straightened up a bit.

"I… I was kidnapped from my clinic on New Clarence Boulevard a few weeks ago. Some lady in red and black. The Joker forced me to perform one of my more… advanced procedures. I-if I wanted to get back to my epileptic, quadriplegic mother, I had to remove one of your eggs, _fertilize _it, genetically modify it, and re-implant it into your womb." She stuttered, lowering her head in shame.

It took Gat a few seconds to translate what had just been said; her face froze up and her jaw dropped.

"Y-you mean I-" She gulped, her eyes getting glassy, "I'm… _pregnant?_"

Janet rushed to her side, placing a hesitant hand on her slim shoulder.

"Now, don't freak out! Listen, I hate the Joker, I really do. He wanted me to use a few eggs to make sure at least one caught, but I lied and told him I could only do one at a time. Now, the odds of the single one catching are slim, around 27%. Who knows, maybe we'll both get out of this unharmed?" She whispered into the girl's ear. Agatha pondered this for a moment. And then, anger billowing like a hot air balloon, she turned her suddenly hollow-looking face to the doctor, staring blankly.

"I doubt a whiny bitch like you will last."

**I think this may be the darkest thing I've ever written. Now, I really hate hurting people's feelings, and just **_**writing**_** Robin being so cruel to the woman was really making me cringe; just remember, though, that this woman really did sort of ruin any semblance of innocence Agatha had left, egg catching or not. She took a shaky(at best) lie from the Joker for her own benefit, and so yeah, she's kinda on Gatzi's bad list.**

**Also, I know this is not how artificial insemination works, and but that's why I call it 'artificial impregnation' instead; it's a completely different process than the one used in clinics. (there may be a real process called artificial impregnation or whatever, but just pretend there isn't.) Totally fictional process, btw.**

**Don't worry, the team shall be in this at some point!**

**And another rant to add: Everything from season 2 and onward never happened. There was no time skip. Honestly, I just recently joined the fandom via Netflix, and fell absolutely in love with the team's dynamic and Robin's character. Then I find out that season 2 is 5 years later, the team has changed and he's been replaced with Jason Todd? No. Nuh-uh. I don't care if he's Nightwing, I want him to keep being Robin! (Probably sounds childish, but there it is.) It bugged me also that the show itself showed them getting older; I mean, cartoons are supposed to be a constant, one of the few constants you'll have as you yourself grow up! They're not supposed to **_**age! **_**Just thinking about it makes my heart kind of heavy.**_** (**_**I'm okay with fanfictions aging them, because that's just someone's creativity, not official and annoying and cannon.)**

**And I **_**heard**_** that Wally died, too. (Couldn't make it through episode one of season two, let alone the rest of the episodes). Nope, none of that happening here. Wally is and will remain alive - along with the rest of the team- and there is no Zatanna, BB, new team, new Robin incarnations, or Rocket either, because I honestly prefer the originals. And in this, two years later, everything is pretty much still the same, except for ages and such. Sorry, but this is my fanfic. Don't like, don't read.**

**Alright, end confusing rant.**

**So, now that my terms have been laid out and you've read the first chapter, should I continue? Yay or nay?**

**R&amp;R!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I've had maybe four people rather passive-aggressively PM me (long after I posted the first chapter) to continue this story; I appreciate the support, but come on! Can you not just leave a review? Two more PMs were a teensy bit, well, demanding and rather rude, and so I'm feeling a bit down right now. (I won't name names; you guys know who you are.) I was quite discouraged for awhile. Please, give this story a chance and then tell me what YOU think! Do you like it? Don't? I NEED TO KNOW! **

**Anyways, here's a second chapter I whipped up to see if anybody else might start to like this story or anything...**

**(If you haven't noticed, I'm a wee bit grumpy. Apologies if I have offended anyone already.)**

"Come along, Robin." Janet said half-heartedly, unclipping the heart monitor from the girl's finger. Agatha blinked sluggishly, mouth pressed in a thin line, and aimlessly followed her; that was about the extent of any reactions she provided. She had been in quite a numb daze since she was informed, almost seven days ago, of the situation at hand.

Dr. Kassey gently grabbed her upper arm and led her out of the med bay for the very first time, typing in a rather simple code and escorting the teen through it. Agatha said nothing.

They made their way around the perimeter of the large room and entered the fiftieth door from the right, a chill settling on the two women. Robin's lack of responses broke Janet's heart every day she saw it; to know it was her fault that the girl was going through this in the first place.

_Don't worry sweetheart, _She thought, _I _will_ find a way to get you out of here._

She reached over and flicked on the lights, the fluorescents crackling on to reveal a large, spacious room equipped with various machines and other exercise tools. Blue mats lined every inch of the floor, and the walls were the same white-painted bricks as everywhere else. In the very back of the gymnasium was the trapeze. Agatha's eyes lost some of their dazed look when she saw it.

Janet turned to her and pulled some clothes and a plastic bag from her messenger bag. "I am instructed to give you three hours of exercise time each day from now on, and to give you these." Included were a pair of stretchy black yoga pants and a white tank top, along with a new sports bra and some hygiene products for when she showered afterwards. Gatzi took them easily, nodding in somewhat-thanks. She went to the attached locker room and changed. Her whole body itched to get on the trapeze, to _fly_, to forget about her problems for a while.

As she slid the pants over her sore knee, she awkwardly craned her neck to look at herself in the small mirror. What she saw made her cringe; her hair was greasy and matted, looking limp and lifeless against her shoulders. Her cheeks were completely, utterly pale, missing the slight natural blush that always adorned her face. Her lips were scabbed and bloody from the constant gnawing she tended to do when she was bored or worried, and they seemed permanently set in a slim, serious line. Her eyes were shiny, yet not in a good, jovial way; the shininess actually made them appear duller, and hardly masked the complete anguish beneath. It was taking all of her willpower to keep her agony inside, taking all of her spirit to not have a breakdown. She couldn't trust herself to make any facial expressions for fear of the immense sadness and anger finding the flaw and breaking out, taking her over completely. So, she put on her Batman Face and carried on.

She continued with her task, refusing to look in the mirror again.

There was a small package of hair ties; she snorted derisively and threw them back into the plastic Wal-Mart bag. She did, however, gratefully grab up the small travel-sized hairbrush and run it quickly through her beloved ebony hair, wincing as tangle and knot got stuck constantly between the bristles.

She almost smiled when she concluded that the bra was slightly big on her, meaning that at least no one had measured her (ew, _touched _her_) _in her unconsciousness. It was a small comfort, one she leapt on and locked into her heart. In times like these, you had to take hope from whatever small things you found.

At least, it _was_ comforting until she realized _why_ exactly it could deliberately be too large. The thought brought other thoughts, nauseating thoughts that made her want to curl up in her half-dressed state and pound her head against the floor until she passed out and the thoughts left her alone.

There was officially a psychopath's DNA inside her body. And she wanted to die. _Would_ die, too, before she ever brought that sort of _demon spawn _into the world. She hoped to God that the damn egg didn't catch. If it did…

'_I'm fifteen! I shouldn't _have_ to worry about _pregnancy!' She thought incredulously. And there was the first of many cracks in her emotionless façade. She blanched when she realized that there were no pads, no tampons in her little bag of girlie tricks, and then mentally slapped herself. '_Of course there wouldn't be! Joker's probably fully expecting this to work, so why would I need them?'_ She stopped herself there, determinedly yanking the white tank top over her scabbed elbow and shoved everything else back into the bag, crumpling that goddamn hospital gown in a ball and chucking it across the room.

'_Deep breaths, Agatha. Calm. Remember your training.'_ She thought slowly, pulling her hands through several positions in front of her chest as she sucked in a breath and then released it slowly, lifting one leg off the ground and balancing on her left leg. She then calmly crossed her arms to each touch the opposite shoulder and crouched down in a semi-squat, stretching her muscles in preparation for the upcoming exercises. She cleared her mind, shoved all worries and thoughts from her head and stood upright once more, refusing to let herself think about what was missing from her life now.

Janet watched in awe as the young teenager breezed through a series of twists and flips, soaring through the air, unburdened for the first time in weeks. She let go of the bar she held, performed at least three backflips, and then, with absolute precision, hooked her knees around a new bar, one much higher up. She did it all without so much as _opening her eyes._

It was almost as if she had been literally born to fly, with her decidedly aerodynamic build; her arms and legs were perfectly slim yet toned, fitting perfectly together as she released the bars and glided a few feet to the next with them pressed together, her head small enough to break through the air resistance but still somehow hold that ginormous brain of hers.

Doctor Kassey could also tell that Robin was born to perform; probably had been a performer at some point. It was perfectly clear in the way she added unnecessary flair to almost every move she made, yet still kept everything concise and compact. It shone through her eyes as she finally opened them and let a small smile grace her young face; she radiated comfort and joy as she defied the laws of nature, gravity, and the like. It showed when she stopped for a moment's rest, standing on either of the platforms, almost habitually raising her head to peer at an imaginary audience off to the side where Janet assumed bleachers would normally be situated. And, was her hand twitching? Yeah, she was totally trying not to wave at the imaginary audience like a true performer always does. Janet wondered if she had been in a circus or perhaps some sort of group like that. It would make sense.

'_And to think, in a few months the poor birdie will have to stop flying in favor of the nest.' _Came the internal voice that she so despised. It always pointed things out to make her feel incredibly guilty.

"Robin, dear, it has been two hours and forty-six minutes, and we need to get the blood testing done today." She called out regretfully. Robin barely made a slight nod to show her acknowledgement.

She really wished she knew the girl's name, since it would definitely be more comforting than just her hero name, but knew the girl would never willingly tell her.

The girl then leaped down from one of the lower platforms, not bothering with the ladder and almost giving Janet a heart attack. Robin simply tucked into herself, rolled, and then used her constant momentum to spring herself up into the air, doing a few handsprings off the mats before landing on her feet, hands at her sides.

"Hon, could you avoid the death-defying stunts around me?" Kassey asked with fake humor as she tried to calm her frantic heart.

Agatha couldn't hold back her glare and snatched a water bottle from the doctor's hands, storming off to the locker room to change. She absolutely hated when this woman called her anything remotely affectionate.

Gatzi dressed herself in a new, comfortable pair of soft, stretchy pants and a loose t-shirt. The shower had been short, the water was cold, and she honestly felt much more refreshed. She could do this.

Janet met her outside the room, holding up a hand and taking the bag from the girl. She then led her back to the med bay, typing in a different code and using her body to block Robin's view. Not that Robin was feeling too confident to escape at the moment anyhow.

"Alright, please take a seat on the bed and we'll begin." Dr. Kassey said, moving to the cabinets and searching for the supplies. Agatha rolled her eyes and did as told. The bed was uncomfortable and rock-hard.

Her thoughts turned to the thing that could possibly be growing inside of her.

'_I wonder who it'll take after if it's there?' _A small voice asked in the back of her head. She blanched. '_Joker, or Harley?' _The needle pierced her arm without her noticing, and her bluish blood soon filled the small glass chamber. Kassey took the blood without a word and crossed the room towards several complex machines, leaving Agatha once again to her thoughts.

And _boy_, were there tons of 'em.

Her palms became sweaty and her arms started vibrating as her muscles involuntarily clenched. Her whole body seemed off-kilter, and her center of gravity seemed almost to shift as her head spun. She knew the answer before she saw the terrified glint in Kassey's eyes, knew it in her core before the doctor could even open her mouth.

Still, she listened to her say it anyway.

"I-I," Janet began, knuckles turning white as she scrunched up her lab coat's pockets nervously, "I- I mean, you're… the tests came back positive." She vomited the words out, staring at Robin with a pained expression, waiting for her reaction. The teen refused to move a muscle. Janet continued cautiously, "And when I say positive, I mean _really _positive. It showed up almost right away. I'm sorry, but you're pregnant."

It wasn't until later that night that Robin finally spoke to her. They were moving things around in her new containment, trying to make it more homey and comfortable for her since the upcoming months would be stressful enough.

"What'll happen to me?" She whispered, closing a drawer on her small dresser.

"Well," Janet started, remembering the instructions Joker had given her on what to say, "until you're four months along, you may continue to have your daily trapeze time. After that, you stick with simpler activities. Once a week I'll check up on the baby, make sure it's developing right, and you'll give birth in the med bay." She hurried, not lingering on any of the heartbreaking words. This was a _teenager_ she was talking to!

"'s not a baby." Gat muttered, mostly to herself. It wasn't, not to her. It was simply a mixture of chromosomes between her, the Joker, and (she had assumed when Janet said 'genetically modified') Harley's DNA. Nothing more. It wasn't a baby, she would make sure it was never born, never grew up to be something similar to a person. The world did not need any extra psychopaths around.

"Abort it." She said aloud, hoping there were no hidden microphones around. Janet froze, although she shouldn't have been surprised; that's what every single teen pregnancy case had ended with at her clinic. But she knew that if she went through with the procedure, Robin and herself would most certainly be dead. Plus, she didn't have it in her to kill a starting life. Not now.

"I'm sorry. I can't." She said sadly, placing a hand on the small girl's shoulder in an attempt to cheer her up. "Don't worry though, I'll be here for you every step of the way. Everything will be alright." Robin snarled at her and shoved the hand right off.

"Don't touch me, _bitch_. This is your fault." She growled, her deep blue eyes blazing. Her time on the trapeze had sure helped her out of her funk earlier. Screw the Batman Face, she had a right to be angry, damn it!

Janet winced and retracted the rejected limb. With one last halfhearted smile, she left the room, the door automatically locking behind her.

Agatha buried her face in the dusty pillows and sighed; she knew what she needed to do.

**Now, Agatha's opinions are not my own; we are people from the moment we're conceived. I do not ever recommend abortion to anyone who has an unplanned pregnancy; if you don't want the baby, there's always adoption! There are thousands of people out there who would do anything for a child, and there are thousands of unborn babies that need love. Even if you're raped (even though that is not EVER your fault) you can't just kill a baby! Adoption. The baby never asked to be conceived from a rape, never decided to be born. **

**If anyone needs emotional support for these types of situations (or for anything, really), just drop me a PM; I'm more than willing to listen.**

**Also, please don't leave any hateful comments on my personal opinions. I refuse to get into an argument over this; it's my opinion, cannot be changed. If you don't like my standpoint, please just cease reading the story and move on.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A review from Delta General 42 caught my attention earlier, and I was actually wondering when someone would notice that I said Jason instead of Tim. To Delta: Believe me, it was intentional! You'll just have to wait and find out why! **

**I would like to apologize to anyone who may be confused by the constant changes in pronouns and such, like when it switches from 'Agatha' to 'Robin' and then back again, all within the same few paragraphs. That's to kinda show whose point of view it's from. 'Robin' means it's from Kassey's, since she has no idea what the kid's real name is, and yeah, you probably understand the rest.**

**Warning: This chapter contains death, thoughts of death, suicide attempts, murder, and just LOTS of death. If you're easily set off/offended by this stuff, don't read.**

'I have to do this just right,' Agatha thought to herself, planning the dialogue in her head. If she played everything off just right, she could finally get what she needed.

"Doctor!" She shouted at the metal door to her 'room'. She knew that the OB would always be close by, and would always respond to her.

Sure enough, Janet Kassey came running through the door not a minute later, pushing her glasses up her nose as she panted in worry.

"What is it?" She exclaimed. Agatha raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips. She had to stop herself from wincing when her fingertips momentarily rested upon her stomach.

"I need a razor." She stated rather bluntly. Kassey eyed her curiously for a second. Was this a good sign, or a bad one? The girl seemed to be doing better these last few days, but was it true?

"Why do you need one?" Robin raised her other eyebrow.

"Um, for shaving? My legs are driving me crazy." Janet considered her request. Hesitantly she nodded and left the room to consult the ones in charge.

-YJ-

"_She wants a what?" _Joker demanded, confused.

"She just wants a razor, to shave." Kassey was quick to clarify. Joker didn't reply for a few minutes, but Janet knew she would get in trouble if she hung up on him without permission. She had done it once, and had lost her right pinky-toe for it.

Joker, meanwhile, was having a hushed conversation with Harley Quinn, his hand covering the small, disposable cell phone.

"Puddin', I don't think it's a good idea." The spandex-clad woman was saying. "Her behavior is-"

"I don't want to hear this! Go to the store and pick it up for her!" He interrupted hastily, snapping his fingers. "Oh, and while you're out, get me some pie." He added with a sly smile. She huffed and stormed off to do her chore.

-YJ-

Two hours later, Agatha was almost stunned to receive a disposable razor, one with pink plastic around the handle. She smiled graciously at Kassey, though it didn't reach her eyes, and hurriedly placed it in her small, attached bathroom. That would be plan B, just in case plan A didn't work out.

After being presented with a small drumstick and some gooey potato for dinner and afterwards squirreling it away into her dresser drawer, Agatha was led back to the gym for her daily exercise time. She put on a neutral face the entire time, not bothering to look in the mirror as she changed and not giving Dr. Kassey a passing glance as she went straight for the trapeze.

There could be no interruptions for this to work.

She climbed up the ladder to the top platform, pretending to do stretches as she planned this out. There was a rope net about five feet off the floor, several stories below her. That left only the side.

She pat her hands together, ran them through her hair, flexed her various muscles, did everything she could think of before realizing she was stalling. She had to do this, had to. If she didn't, she would doom herself to a life of horrors, tragedy, and a plethora of other things that she could never be ready for.

Tears pricked her eyes; she didn't _want _to die. But she had to, and she would do her duty. Without letting herself think about it any longer, Gatzi threw herself right off the side of the platform, past the edges of the lifesaving net, the net that should have been there when her parents were doing exactly what she currently was doing. Falling.

She fell fast, too. The ground was coming to meet her much too soon, and she hurriedly flipped onto her stomach to ensure maximum damage. She was surprised with how calm she suddenly felt, how accepting she was of staring death right in the face. She didn't scream, didn't consider screaming. Just fell, closing her eyes and praying that her parents would forgive her for this.

The blue of some mats pressed right against her body as she landed, gracelessly, sprawled upon them. And she wanted to cry when she bounced right off of them, up into the air once more, and landed on her butt on a closer platform.

_Camouflaged trampolines. Marvelous._ She thought, standing up, wincing and knowing she was covered in bruises, lucky to not have broken her legs, pretending she was frazzled, like she hadn't intended to fall in the first place. If they suspected her of anything, they might take away her razor.

Still, Janet demanded she climb down immediately, to which she shakily complied. She was immediately taken to Med Bay, fussed over, and nagged. Janet was shaking heavily the entire time, fear lining her face as she made absolutely sure that Robin was okay. She even did an ultrasound to make sure the little demon was alright, barely able to make out a blurred little lump inside the teen's womb and frowning when Robin absolutely _refused_ to even listen to her comments on the baby. The teen kept her head turned away from the monitor the entire time. And she tried not to blow her cover by sobbing when the lump was determined to indeed be unharmed. Although she had done perfect calculations in her head to ensure no survival, and although she hit the trampoline hard enough to at least injure something, she hadn't accounted for the fact that the thing was too small, still able to hide behind several layers of her own skin and muscles, still able to be pressed right against the back of her womb. Plus, it wasn't necessarily developed enough yet to have limbs to be injured, blood to be spilled.

Plan A had failed miserably.

That night she expertly removed the blades from the razor's head, taking one and running it along the edge of the largest bone leftover from her drumstick dinner. She sat there, pondering and sharpening, hiding behind her bed, listening intently to make sure she wasn't caught. Four hours later, the tiny bone was sharpened to a fine point and hidden underneath her pillow. Plan C was now in place.

She tiredly picked up the other blades and took them into her bathroom, turning on the shower to throw off suspicions and earn some extra time. She then sank down to the floor, holding the shiny metal scrap in her fingers and examining it closely. She was really going to do this. She was really, _actually_ willing to do this. She tilted her head back and peered into the tiny handheld mirror hanging from a hook across from her.

She was in even worse shape than before, paler and thinner. She hadn't been eating much of the food given to her. There were gigantic purple bags underneath her eyes, and new worry lines creased her forehead. Her eyes were dead, glassy and unfocused.

She was broken.

They had broken her.

She had become a shell of what she once was, the strong spirited Grayson gone; possibly for good.

'_Cut the thing out. Save myself.' _She suddenly thought, but dispelled the idea as soon as it came. It was too small for her to locate, and she was very inexperienced. She would most likely die from blood loss or from doing something completely wrong. Plus, did she want to chance holding its bloody, misshapen corpse in her hands? Did she really? No, she didn't.

She quickly swiped the sharp edge over her exposed wrist, aiming for the artery, hissing at the pain; the flow of the water covered the small noise. Blood rushed from her skin, enveloping her fingers and soaking the blade, dark crimson and smelling like death. It was a smell she had grown used to over the years.

As she lay there, bleeding out quietly, her thoughts suddenly turned to those she loved most. The team, Bruce and Alfred, her parents, the League. She pictured Wally, holding her cold body in his arms and sobbing into her hair. She saw Bruce, clad in his Batman suit for the rescue mission, right behind her best friend, silently fuming and mourning and having a hard time hiding it. She pictured M'gann, crying openly into a stoic Conner's chest, him running a hand through her auburn hair. Artemis was there too, crying quietly and growling as she planned revenge. Kaldur would most likely be the one to remain calm, like the leader Robin could never be -never _wanted_ to be- and explain what they would do next. The scene broke her heart, made her broken spirit stir a little, made tears fill her eyes and spill over onto her sallow cheeks.

A gigantic drop of the thick blood fell from her arm and splashed onto the white tile floor.

-YJ-

Once, when Agatha was about three, one of the circus clowns killed himself during babysitting duty. The two acrobats had left their relatively new child in his trusted hands, all smiles and laughed reassurances that practice wouldn't take too long, and to ship her off to the bear trainer if she misbehaved. Gatzi still remembered the rough, calloused hands of the scary clown gently picking her up under the arms, holding her to him even as she twisted in his grasp, reaching desperately for her mother's retreating form.

'_E în regulă, puțin buton-fusta. Părinții tăi vor fi imediat.'_ He had comforted, rocking her back and forth. She had smacked her little hands against his chest, sobbing. She failed to notice his own tears, or the fact that he had stopped comforting after two minutes. His eyes had become bloodshot and glazed, had lost their cheerful glint and determination. He set her down, tears turning into rivulets as he sobbed quietly. She had then watched on in horror and a child's confused curiosity as he took his pocket-knife, mostly used for cutting things like balloon strings, and without hesitation jammed it right into his neck. She had cried earnestly when he fell to her level, not moving from his new place on the floor. A mark was seared into his forehead, a symbol resembling a scribbled fish devouring the moon.

Baba would be proud.

She had crawled on top of him, smacking his face to wake him up, sobbing when he wouldn't. Her tiny finger started curiously trailing through the liquid that was too thick to be juice, but too thin to be paint. Agatha had stared into his glinting eyes for awhile after that.

She was trapped in his trailer with his corpse for over a half hour before her parents returned, Mary screaming and sheltering her scarred baby against her bosom, John trying fruitlessly to staunch the slowing bloodflow.

And, after seeing the marking on the man's face that had not been there prior, John had paid a visit to Baba, which- according to Pop Haley- had ended with her banishment from the circus.

Agatha wondered what life was like for the elderly woman nowadays.

-YJ-

The six-week-old offspring remained unharmed; Janet sighed in semi-relief, turning off the machine (in a daze, almost; she had made a rather disturbing discovery she would need to tell Robin) and cleaning the cold, blue gel from the girl's barely rounded stomach. '_She's showing already?_' Robin didn't respond, still unconscious from the stress of the whole ordeal.

Almost a whole week ago, the Girl Wonder had tried to kill herself. Kassey remembered her shock when a frantic Harley Quinn came running into the base, insisting that the girl was in danger. She said her behavior was that of a suicidal person, and the cameras in her room showed she had disappeared into her bathroom almost a half-hour prior. They had run into the girl's bathroom and had found her barely clinging to consciousness as blood dripped down her severed wrist and even mingled with several locks of long, ratty hair. She had been quick to sew up the deep incision and together the two women carried the girl to Med Bay where she was hooked up to a blood transfusion from the Joker's girlfriend herself. While Robin was still conscious, Joker had paid a visit himself, had… _convinced_ her not to do it again.

Janet had re-wrapped the now scabless (_shudder)_ wounds on the teen's elbow and knee (received during her violent capture oh so long ago), had then been promised to receive punishment for this little mishap. She could feel the Joker hovering around the underground base, waiting for almost five whole days to find the best opportunity to punish his oldest captive. She had been beyond edgy the entire time, feeling like a swimmer, waiting for the circling shark to stop intimidating and start snacking.

"Come here." Joker snapped, appearing in the doorway and holding up her shocker remote for emphasis. She timidly followed him out of the Med Bay, into the thirty-sixth room from the left. It was a small room made entirely of bricks, cold and lit only by a single hanging light bulb. His eternal smile widened as the door slid shut behind the trapped woman, and manic laughter escaped his red lips. He approached her menacingly, twirling his knife in one hand and laughing harder when she pressed herself desperately into the wall, expecting this punishment to be painful.

"You have failed me for the last time." Was all he said, whipping out a gun and aiming it at her head. He pulled the trigger. She screamed, cowering.. Then looked up with a deathly pale face at the little red flag protruding from the gun; its inscription mocking. _Bang._

She sighed shakily.

He laughed, pulling the flag from the weapon casually.

Then he quickly took aim once more and fired with a happy face.

Janet Kassey's brains splattered across the length of the brick wall, and her lifeless body slumped to the floor.

-YJ-

Agatha awoke to the muffled sound of a gunshot; a quick assessment of her surroundings proved that the damned OB-GYN was the most likely victim. She couldn't find it in herself to care. This experience, unlike any of the many others she'd had, had changed her. She felt numb, distanced. Priorities formed in her head; she refused to stray from them. Maybe now she had a chance.

The Joker left soon after dispatching Kassey, not having bothered to move her mutilated corpse. Agatha waited with bated breath as she heard him exit the heavily-fortified doors, then silently crept up to the glass sliding doors that kept her securely in Med Bay. The lock was easy enough to hack into; using a nearby hypodermic needle she could interrupt the energy flow through the magnets and then was able to open the front, revealing the basic circuit board. From there she re-routed the electric current from the lock to the overhead lights, brightening them up just a bit, and for good measure, she made sure the doors would never lock again, no matter what was done to the system. **[1] **Honestly, this would confuse many others, but to her, it was child's play. They may have taken her spirit, but her mind was still intact.

The doors slid open to reveal the quiet main room beyond, and she wasted no time in sneaking, so ninja-like that it would make Ra's al Ghul blush, to her assigned quarters and hacking into that system, as well. The chicken bone was as she had left it almost a week ago.

Knowing she was pressed for time- I mean come on, Joker's not going to leave her completely unsupervised, is he?- Gatzi quickly assessed her swollen abdomen, trying to figure out the most damaging place to impale. Finally, she said a mental _screw this_ and just aimed for her own forehead, hoping this would put her in a permanent coma in the least. After all, she had faith that she had strong enough arms to at least break through the skull.

The door slid open, and Harley Quinn jumped inside, grabbing her wrist and twisting until the teen had no choice but to release the weapon. Her cheek ended up pressed against the jester's as she was twisted into a new position, one to keep her effectively restrained with her arms crossed over her own chest and with a spandex-clad knee pressed into her lower spine. The pressing of the various pressure points on her sore body sent her instinctually into a state of clarity, the fog of despair lifting as her muscles relaxed and she could think clearly. **[2]**

What came to her newly-clear mind wasn't pretty; she realized exactly how deeply everything had affected her, how her life seemed to be falling apart at the seams, how depressed she truly _was_ feeling; not just the sense of duty to kill the unborn demon. The detached feeling that had so plagued her before was gone, swirling down the drain until the despair became the only thing she could feel. Voices welled up in her ears.

'_You're pregnant.'_

'Where the hell is Bruce?'

'_-give birth in the Med Bay.'_

'_E în regulă, puțin buton-fusta. Părinții tăi vor fi imediat.'_

'_Let's see you try _that_ again after I'm through with you!'_

The first tears started filling her eyes before she could stop them, and soon they were spilling over onto her pale cheeks, some idling in the small crease between where her Gypsy tan skin and Harley's own white-painted cheek met. Sobs wracked her thin frame as she finally gave in to all the overwhelming emotions, and her restrained wrists turned so she could scratch viciously at her scalp in distress.

Harley, always quick to act, spun her around to face her, a serious and empathetic look adorning her normally jovial features. She then wasted no time in pulling the young girl to her, wrapping her in her arms and whispering in her ear.

She didn't mind the growing wet spot on her shoulder as all self-restraint was pushed from her charge's mind; she understood what Robin was going through, was glad to assist her in the way she knew best.

After all, she had gone through this before herself, and knew the consequences of not having a shoulder to cry on.

**So yeah… really uber dark stuff… Sorry if this offended anyone…**

**[1] This is in no way shape or form a way of hacking a system; I have absolutely no expertise in this area and just wanted to write this; why not?**

**[2]This is not a real pressure point technique thingy; I just needed some way for her to be restrained and clear minded and such. So…**

**And yeah, Harley is going to have some character depth… Be prepared.**

**Translation: It's alright, little button-skirt. Your parents will be back soon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to those who have read so far! I know this story is very unorthodox, so thanks for sticking with me!**

**Please let me know what you think in the reviews! That's the only payment I get from all of this, and it's the only thing that tells me if I should even continue this story at all! If you don't like it, tell me so! Tell me what should be improved, clarified, and so forth.**

**Thank you!**

_**Warning: this chapter particularly focuses on my views of abortion… I am Pro-Life all the way, so if you're offended by that, don't read. Please no hateful comments.**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice, Batman, or anything else. I do own Kassey, but as you can see, she's not very… alive… anymore. Back to square one, I suppose.**

Dr. Harleen Quinzel didn't graduate as the top student in her class for nothing. She was a pretty damn good psychologist, very empathetic and able to easily read body language and unlock the fascinations of the human psyche. She had been very successful with her patients in Arkham, too, before she fell head over heels for a clown-faced manipulator and became who she was today.

Still, infatuation was different from forgetting everything she'd learned in her classes.

In the last week or so, she had been careful to keep an especially close eye on her charge, Robin. The girl had tried several more times to kill herself, ranging from hanging with bedsheets to smashing her head against the wall as hard as she could in desperation, each time barely being caught in time to survive. Honestly, Harley was quite surprised the baby had survived all of the girl's violence upon herself.

After the latest incident with a broken plastic toothbrush handle, the jester had had enough, and knew something had to change as soon as possible.

"Robin?" She asked lightly as she entered Med Bay for the tenth time that week. The teenager was reclined on the single hospital bed and hooked up to another blood transfusion, three different IVs in her arm and a bandage over her neck. The ebony startled from her restless daydreaming, sitting up straight and staring warily at her keeper. The woman- not in her usual attire but in sweatpants and a tank top- held up her hands placatingly and approached slowly. Despite her willingness to be a shoulder for the girl to cry on, she hadn't gained much trust. Mr. J would sure be mad.

"What do you want, Harley?" Robin rasped angrily, blue eyes wide. Harley smiled kindly.

"Please, call me Har. I'm not _always_ in my awesome jester form, ya'know. I just want to talk to you. About the babies." She said slowly. This actually earned a wince from the teen, her face paling considerably.

"Wh-what?"

"You know it's true. You're maybe a month along, yet you're already showing?" Agatha winced again and peered hatefully at her slightly distended abdomen. It wasn't much yet, but it was there. "Plus, there are two heartbeats. At first I thought it was yours and the baby's, but they're both too fast to be from you. It was 99% unlikely, but it happened. You got twins, congrats." She finished rather sourly. Robin, in her shocked and denying state, was still keen enough to pick up on this.

"Wh-why aren't _you_ happy? It means another b- … _thing_ for you, right?" Harley's smiling faded and she sighed unhappily.

"Yeah, but they're not mine, so it's not the same." She admitted, probably being the most honest she'd ever been with the younger girl.

This got Agatha's full attention. "But I thought- she said they were modified… I thought-" she swallowed, "I thought they were yours too." This sent a sting into Harley's heart, though she covered it well. However, it was hard to hide the disdain in her voice as she spoke again.

"Heh, no. Mistah J don't really care much about my genetics, so much as his. Apparently your DNA was much more desirable." She placed her hands behind her back, willing to share the truth if asked, knowing honesty was the only way to make progress with the girl. The kid had a knack for determining lies.

"But wh-why not use YOU to carry his spawn?" Robin spat, confused and angry. "_You_ are the age of legal consent here, and YOU would be willing to!" Harley chanced a step closer, noticed the curl of the girl's lip, and took a tiny half-step back.

"Because I can't. I cannot carry his child." She confessed, saddened. "Believe me, I wish I could." Her vague approach brought forth results as the raven-haired teen blinked, defensive tense gone from her shoulders. Harley took advantage of this and took two stealthy steps closer. Robin didn't object.

"Why can't you?" The girl asked, curiosity fueling her words as she desperately tried to understand the situation as a whole. Harley's heart stung a bit again, but she forced the sad smile onto her face regardless and answered with as much sincerity as she could muster.

"I got my tubes tied years ago. I was in the same situation you were in, I was sixteen and I got pregnant. My grades slipped right off the grid, I considered suicide. I felt so guilty and confused, my mother disowned me, life generally sucked." By now she was a mere five feet away from the pristine white bed, fingers fidgeting by her sides. She inhaled and released the pent-up air through her nostrils. "I aborted it. The father refused to offer support, refused to talk to me. I couldn't take it anymore. Afterwards, I knew that if I had kids in the future, it would make me go insane (although that seems to have happened regardless). All the guilt I had felt the first time, the abuse I suffered; I just couldn't take the chance of that happening again. I got my tubes tied, I had my own personal memorial service for that baby I chose to kill, because you know what? I still felt guilty. And I was the only one who attended that little service, and all I could do was cry. I was hoping to end the confusion, but instead I just increased it." She had tears in her eyes, but although she refused to let them fall, she knew the teenager could see them. She sternly looked the younger girl in the eyes, making Robin blanch a bit.

"You need to trust me on this. I know I'm a villain, and I know you don't trust me on anything else, but please trust me on this: what you're doing isn't the right thing. You're depriving your mentor, your friends, and your family of your life, and you're preventing two innocent children from living their own lives someday. Please, stick through this. I know it's not fair to ask this of you- damn it, I wish he hadn't gone so far- but you need to go through with this. Afterwards, you don't have to worry about them again; I promise I will take the best care of them. You'll be returned to your family afterwards, and they won't have to know a single thing. Your life can go back to some semblance of normal. Please, hear me. Listen to me." She implored, stepping closer until she was standing beside the girl, grabbing up one small hand in her own. She kept her intense gaze upon the Gypsy girl, drilling the importance of her words into her head.

Agatha was almost convinced for a moment- almost. She shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. _Holy crap, when did my life become such a soap opera?_ She took her hand from Harley's, though without her usual malice. She could already see the genuine hurt brewing behind the jester's eyes, and for some strange reason couldn't find it in herself to spit at her when the woman had just bared her soul to her enemy.

"I'm sorry, Harley Quinn, but I cannot bring another _two_ psychopaths into this sin-infested hellhole we call Gotham." She whispered, wishing it wasn't so but knowing it was. She had to do what she had to do, and the fact that the villain was trying to deter her from it meant she was on the right track.

Harley seemed surprised, however.

"No, no, Puddin'! What are you talking about?" She asked. The vigilante raised a bit of an eyebrow.

"The _Joker_ is the father of these two things, and you ask what I mean by psychopaths?" Harley placed a hand over her heart, sitting on the bed by the girl's legs and pretending not to notice when said legs moved minutely away from her.

"No, no, no! Don't you read anything on those files? The ones that _I_ helped to file on the prisoners of Arkham?" She asked incredulously, frowning. Robin simply frowned at her, insulted, but motioned for her to explain. The woman poutingly blew several stray blonde locks from her eyes. "His _condition_ came about after he had a heinous accident with a vat of mutagenic acids. Everything you see about him is completely different than how he used to be. His eyes were brown, his hair was brown, his skin was Caucasian and his voice was lower. I've seen photos and home videos.

But most importantly, _Robin_, is that he wasn't insane until _after_ the accident. An outside force influenced his mental state to become what it did, not something within." She stressed the word _outside_ as she placed a hand on the child's knee.

"So- so.." Agatha stuttered (man, she'd been doing too much of that lately) out, struggling to connect the puzzle pieces, "it's not genetic?" It came out a whisper. Harley smiled thinly, but it was nonetheless reassuring. The teen let out a tiny sigh of somewhat-relief.

"Nope, it's in no way genetic. Those babies are _yours_ and _Jack Napier's, _not the Joker's. And not mine." She finished with a little smile. Robin even smirked in reply a little, though it was distracted as she thought.

Agatha had no idea what to feel. Relief? No, she still had infants inside of her that shouldn't be allowed to exist. Sadness? Well, the relief that her reproductive organs aren't currently supporting would-be serial killers was kind of overwhelming. Whelmed? Most certainly not. Happiness? Most certainly not.

She was still confused and conflicted, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go through with any more suicide/abortion attempts with a clean conscience, but knowing that she couldn't allow these babies to be raised as mini-Jokers. They may not receive the mentality, but they could certainly be raised into it. She had to figure out an escape plan, ASAP.

But what about Bruce? Her adoptive father surely wouldn't appreciate two extra charges being dumped into his care, and who knew if he would even accept her back after this ordeal?

No, of course he'll accept you, she thought to herself, shaking her head. Don't be ridiculous.

But what about the kids at school? She already dealt with enough crap about being a junior at age 15, being tiny and flat-chested with no real social life or romance. She could deal with those things by flashing her billionaire smile and pulling out her many ribbons and trophies for national events in the fields of science, math, history, and English. But a teen pregnancy? How would she survive _that_ onslaught of bullying? And the rumors, oh my! The press would have a field day; she would forever be recognized as the slutty knocked-up rich kid whose daddy didn't love her enough to care if she was a prostitute. She shuddered at the thought.

And if Robin and Agatha Grayson both had twins at the same time, who _wouldn't_ be able to make the connection? Maybe it was best to go for adoption. She wasn't cut out for this stuff, nor would she be able to handle the responsibilities and sacrifices it implied.

All of this flitted through her head in about four seconds, but her mind was soon set.

And then her stupid eyes began watering. And her lip began trembling. And the anger came back, hand-in-hand with sadness.

Damn you, hormones!

A tear fell down her cheek, quickly followed by ten more in swift succession, and soon she was sobbing in relief, anger, confusion, grief, and longing. A hand pat her back, but that was all.

And she was glad that was all, because had Harley hugged her again, she may have just broken from the strain and doubts the action would stir up in her mind. And she was glad Harley knew her mental boundaries.

It was best if someone did.

"_Multumesc. Mulțumesc lui Dumnezeu. Vă rog să mă ajutați. __Asigurați toate astea opri. Ia durerea departe." _She chanted under her breath, closing her eyes and rocking back and forth, wondering with mild excitement and overpowering trepidation where the coming months would take her.

**Thank you for reading, and please leave a review!**

**The Romanian is just her thanking God and also asking to have the pain taken away, asking for it all to stop and for help. I just feel like even those who aren't very religious have times where they need to pray. Also, being a Lutheran probably makes it a bit biased…**

**Anywho, hope you enjoyed!**

**No, I do not mean Jack Napier the porn star. O-O I was looking up the name because I had heard it was the Joker's real name in the comics or something, but I got lots of results on a porn star sharing the name as well. Just know that that was not my intention.**

**Sorry this took so long, my teacher just got diagnosed with lung cancer and it's taken up lots of my study hall time (that I generally spend typing this up) to write her letters and stuff while she is on leave for treatment. **** Thanks for your understanding and patience.**


	5. Chapter 5

'**Quoth the raven, nevermore.'**

**Feeling literate again!**

**This is written in a different style from the other chapters, but it's the best way I could show the passage of time, so enjoy regardless!**

**Anywho, here we go!**

Agatha blew a stray lock of ebony hair from her eyes as she crouched over the crumpled notebook. A bright yellow pencil rested firmly between her fingers and the graphite tip barely touched the paper. Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she concentrated on what to say.

Harley had bought the meager notebook for her, suggesting it would be a good habit to write about her feelings, experiences, or whatever she wanted.

In the margins she had written out various mathematical equations, solved them, and doodled new costume designs when she had gotten especially bored. Now, after four months of captivity and two days of having the journal, she figured it was time she did something a bit more productive and actually required her to use her brain.

Finally she thought of something to write, but, being part of the Bat clan and its endless paranoia, wrote everything in her native language to avoid snooping.

_I've been stuck in this hellhole for all of four months. The little things are getting bigger almost daily, and my stomach is bigger than a basketball. I hate it._

_I soon will lose my trapeze privileges. That's clearly inevitable, seeing as I can barely do a handstand correctly with this new center of gravity and sense of balance. All I can dare to hope for is another way to get in exercise, because I fully plan on keeping my mental and physical strength in top condition._

_Harleen has started providing me with lotion to apply to my growing stomach. The first time she gave it to me, I stomped on the bottle until its gooey guts coated everything nearby. 'Avoid stretchmarks' my ass._

_I've started losing hope that my father will rescue me. I keep trying to convince myself that all things take time, but it's becoming harder every day I wake up in this hideous place._

She ended with that, sticking the pencil between the pages and hiding the journal in her desk's drawer.

~The Following Week~

_Harley has informed me that I'm officially halfway done with this pregnancy ordeal. She seemed about as thrilled about this as I am._

_Does giving birth really hurt as much as they say? Does giving birth to twins hurt more?_

_And what kind of modification did Kassey integrate into them? Will they have powers? Will they be psychopaths, despite Harley's promises? What if none of us survive?_

…_Who would mourn the fetuses, I wonder?_

~Fifth Month~

_My abdomen has doubled in size since I last wrote a few weeks ago. Harley offered to steal the equipment necessary for an ultrasound to reveal their gender, (I'll assume they're both the same gender, since she's told me they're identical twins), but I hastily declined. I really, really don't need anything else shoved down my throat about this. I just want to be rescued, maybe have a C-section, and put the little things up for adoption. There, bye-bye, end of story._

_Why isn't life so simple?_

~Two Weeks Later~

_The babies are about the size of a watermelon, combined. I can barely move around anymore, and have mostly remained in my room._

_I am no longer allowed to use the trapeze._

_My feet are constantly aching, and my back is always giving me pain. Sometimes I feel _them_ kicking around inside of me, and the thought alone disturbs me more than words can express. It makes the feeling of living beings even more… realistic. It really hammered home just what I was going through with._

_Sometimes, at night, when they decide to have little hopscotch matches inside of me to prevent any form of sleep, I'll hum a little lullaby and hope they can hear it. They can, because they almost always fall still afterwards, and I assume they fall asleep. Sometimes I'll find my hands rubbing my stomach of their own accord, and sometimes a little foot will make contact with them. I don't know which one is doing what, but I get the feeling one is rowdier than the other._

_I really hope they aren't rowdy little boys._

~Three Days Later~

_I surprised myself yesterday by agreeing to let Harley determine the gender of the twins. I don't precisely know why I did, but after she left I felt a great deal of relief, like something's been lifted from my shoulders._

_These babies will lose their last element of surprise._

~Later That Day~

_They're boys. Both of them._

_That does seem to explain their hyperactivity- not really, but I felt the need to add humor here- but I was still slightly surprised to see the picture on the monitor._

_I've _seen_ them now._

_I saw them for the very first time._

_I'm angered to say that my breath was stolen from me when I first glimpsed the two of them, hugging each other with their thumbs in their mouths and only one having his eyes open. Feelings I dare not attempt to explain welled up in my chest, making me want to cry and laugh, celebrate and die. I'm so confused. The feelings haven't gone away, and it's been hours since they first occurred._

_I'm worrying myself, and Harley telling me this is normal in new mothers somehow managed to make me feel even worse._

_I'm not a new mother._

_I'm a prisoner._

_I have no reason to be happy._

~Sixth Month~

_Harley Quinn has attempted to get me thinking about names for the babies. Even started listing a few. I had to remind myself not to sock her, that she isn't aware of my plans to get them away from here and up for adoption. Do they even need me to name them?_

"_How about Jay, Jack, Jason?" She was asking earlier, and I noted she only stuck with J names. I shook my head in response and buried my face in my arms as I curled on my bed._

_Depression waves hit me on and off these days. It's gotten very bad, and I think my warden is starting to notice. Sometimes she'll pass me a small blue pill and I'll swallow it through my tears, and an hour later I feel almost normal once more._

_I sure hope I don't get addicted._

_Is Bruce coming?_

_**No, maybe he's not.**_

~Seventh Month~

_My stomach is gigantic; I can barely reach my arms around it anymore. None of the nightgowns fit anymore, so Harley got me some maternity clothes from the store. I refused to wear them. I would rather wear a short dress than… _pregnancy_ clothes for women who actually _want_ to be pregnant. I feel so sick._

~The Next Week~

_There's a new tension in the air, a feeling of muffled excitement. It's the feeling I remember floating around Auntie Karla's trailer a few weeks before cousin John was born. I was three._

_With this feeling of anticipation- the origins of which I have no idea- came a feeling of trepidation deep within my core. My heart leaps every time I think about what's coming soon._

_Soon…. Such an ominous word._

~Two Weeks Later~

_Joker came and visited me today. I was terrified; I can no longer move correctly, I'm sore all over, and I have no means to defend myself and the boys._

_He was all smiles, sadistic and patronizing and smelling like some sort of cologne that made me want to bite his head off. Well, I've always wanted to do that, but the smell just made all my senses on edge._

_He kept… _touching_ me. No, not like THAT. He kept rubbing a hand on my belly, and when I would try to slap his hand away, he would pull out a switch blade and demand that he, the _ugh_, father, be allowed to interact with his children. I would snarl at him, but then his knife would come terribly close to my abdomen, and I would whimper and back away, and he would laugh._

_He promised me that his need for me was almost over._

_I cried for hours after he left._

~Eighth Month~

_I am terribly sore. My stomach is huge, my feet are swollen and sore, my back is sore. I hurt everywhere._

_I long for a hug from my daddy. I want him so badly right now; my eyes are tearing up just thinking of his absence._

_Does he miss me? I hope so. I miss him more than words can express. Will he hate me for being pregnant? With the Joker's children? At age 15? Surely he'll realize it's not of my own decision._

_What if he tries to kill them?_

_No, NO! He's a good man. He would NEVER kill a child, much less two defenseless newborns…. Or however old they'll be WHEN he finds us._

_He WILL find me. He WILL take me home, and then I can properly have these babies, and they can find loving, non-psychopathic parents, and I'll be free to join my team, my FAMILY, once more._

_I just have to keep my hopes up._

~The Next Week~

_I am panicking more than you could ever imagine. My hands are shaking, my eyes are constantly flooding with tears, and worst of all.. my uterus is contracting. I've been having contractions for over six hours now, and strangely, it didn't start with my water breaking, like they do on TV. I woke up during the night with terrible pains in my stomach and lower back, and it's been off-and-on ever since._

_Harley tells me not to panic, that twins often come earlier than other babies, that everything is progressing nicely, but slowly. She's become _too_ encouraging, which in turn is making me nervous. My muscles are clenching of their own accord._

_I sit here, writing this, as a distraction from the inevitability that these boys are going to be out of my womb within the next day. From the disappointment that floods through me as I realize that my father won't make it in time._

_These babies are lost._

_The Joker will take them away before rescue arrives._

_I'm not crying; I'm not going to cry…_

_Yes, actually, I am._

_I hate myself for sobbing._

~Two Hours Later~

_Oh dear Lord, the pain is worsening! It's steadily increasing, and I can no longer stand on my own. I had to actually ask Harley for help going to the bathroom. My cheeks are permanently stained red._

_Why must this happen to me? Why am I so favorable to carry his heirs? Why must I suffer through the pain of giving them up when they've been a part of me for so damn long? _

_Oh no, my hands are shaking so badly. I can barely get words out of my mouth, let alone write anymore._

… _I wonder if I'll even get to hold them before they're taken away forever._

**I'm sorry if this was depressing!**

**Now the plot's really moving, and the next chapter will be from Bruce's POV. Will he save her in time? We'll have to see…**

**Also, apologies for any inconsistencies in time passing… I'm bad at calculations, nor do I know if I got the early labor info right. I did my research, but have never actually given birth, so apologies again. Any moms out there who have tips for accurate childbirth/labor scenes, please feel free to leave a review or PM me! It would be greatly appreciated!**

**Guys, I don't know how many people actually like this story, because we're kind of skimping on reviews. Could we set a goal of 5 reviews per chapter? That's not too many! Please, do me the biggest favor ever and just take a few seconds to leave me your thoughts in a review!**

**Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow, guys! Your responses have been phenomenal! Seriously, like, I can't stop smiling! So, here's an early-ish update just for you guys!**

**To all the Guests who left reviews: thank you so much for your advice and support, it means the world to me! I've done a little research and I'm hoping to get this upcoming scene right!**

**Be warned, rather graphic birth scene ahead.**

**Are you guys excited? I am!**

"Master Bruce, you've been down here for over seventy-two hours without eating or sleeping. I must insist you take a short break before you collapse." Alfred implored, placing a hand on Bruce's caped shoulder. Bruce pulled his cowl down and frowned at the butler.

"Alfred, she's been missing for eight months now. Eight months! And I haven't found her yet. I refuse to rest until she is found and brought home." He asserted, turning back to the screen with a grunt. His stomach grumbled, but he ignored it as he always did.

The elderly butler sighed hopelessly, placing his serving tray on a nearby table and sitting down beside his charge.

"So, have you found any clues as to her location?" He asked, more to fill the silence than to receive an answer. He already knew, based on the set of Bruce's shoulders and jaw, that he had had no luck.

The billionaire growled in frustration, rubbing a gloved hand down his haggard face.

"Nothing. No traces of a DNA trail, no signs of any struggles, no witnesses, no encrypted messages, no anything!" His fist slammed on the desk. Several sleepy bats stirred from their perches.

"I'm sure you shall find her soon, Master Bruce. She's a strong girl, she can handle herself until you find her." With that, Alfred returned to the mansion, taking up a feather duster and monotonously completing the chore with inescapable melancholy. Oh, how he missed his granddaughter.

_Line Break_

"Robin, dear, how you holding up?" Harley Quinn asked, for the gazillionth time, as she peeked inside the dark Med Bay. The teenager grunted in response, rolling over to her side as she tried- and failed- to get comfortable. She kicked the blanket from her legs as a hot flash assaulted her.

Then another contraction hit, and she whimpered only slightly, her high pain tolerance being the only thing to stop her from all-out screaming. She was strong, she could do this, she would make Batman proud of his protégé. She fisted the sheet lying beneath her and twined her fingers in its soft material.

Frowning with sympathy, Harley came forward and placed another pillow behind Robin's head, propping her up. When the pains had faded away once more, Agatha opened her clenched eyes and shook her head.

"I-I-" She paused, adjusting her legs to be more comfortable and groaning when this did nothing to soothe the aching.

Then, the next thing she knew, two cold hands were on her shoulders, gently pulling her from the bed and assisting her in awkwardly standing. She sighed in relief as the movement worked the kinks from her muscles. Slowly, Harley led her around the room, one hand on her shoulder and the other precariously hovering underneath the distended belly. When another pain came to the small girl almost twenty minutes later, though, Harley had no choice but to duck down and bring the bony arm around her own shoulders, placing her reluctant hand underneath Robin's abdomen to provide more support when the ebony almost collapsed where she stood. They continued their circuit around the room until the vigilante stopped short, moving her arms to encircle her belly and crouching down, sitting on the floor with her head down and her face hidden by her long hair.

"What's wrong, Robin?" The jester asked in concern, kneeling in front of the girl.

Robin didn't move for a few minutes, just breathed heavily and grunted occasionally.

Then, she lifted her face to gaze at the older woman with tears in her blue eyes. Her lip was trembling and the desperation in her expression was too much for Harley to understand. It broke her heart, and she almost sobbed herself when the girl lunged forward and captured her in a weak hug.

"P-please call me Agatha, _please_! I-I need something familiar right now." She cried into the woman's shoulder.

Shocked, Harley returned the hug and pulled the remarkably small teenager into her lap, holding her close and running hands through her hair comfortingly.

"Okay, Agatha, okay. I'm here, you're okay, you're fine."

The girl stopped speaking after that, but the psychologist continued rambling even as she felt her charge's breathing even out as she slept lightly. Agatha's muscles twitched constantly, and even in unconsciousness she gripped at her friend's shirt with such a desperate hold that Harley couldn't find it in her to move even an inch.

She knew from personal experience and from her college education that Agatha was losing her hope. She was losing her will to live and her positivity. Attitude is everything, especially in these circumstances, and if the girl continued to deteriorate, then the possibility of losing all three of them in childbirth was a very real threat.

Biting her lip, Harleen Quinzel knew what had to be done to ensure this child and her sons made it through this.

Unfortunately, it went totally against the Joker's rules.

But she knew she had to do this, or Agatha wouldn't live to see her babies; she had come to care very deeply about the girl, and promised to keep her safe and healthy.

Patients always came before anything else.

_Line Break_

"ALFRED! Get down here, NOW!" Bruce yelled, and the tone of his voice was enough to convince Alfred that something serious was occurring. He dropped the window rag and sprinted- literally _sprinted_\- to the grandfather clock, opening the secret passage and hurrying down into the Batcave.

"What's happened, Master Bruce?" He inquired breathlessly, approaching the computer. Bruce was no longer sitting in his chair, but standing up, leaning on his hands over one of the smaller screens. His illuminated face shone with slowly growing hope.

"Alfred, there's an encrypted signal coming from an old warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham. It's her, it's gotta be! She's the only one who knows the frequency!" He was fully excited now, his cowl was brought up over his face and he was already dashing for the Batmobile. "Tell the League to bring backup to the coordinates I just sent them!" He ordered, driving off into the night.

_Line Break_

"AGH!" Agatha cried, tossing her head back. She had maybe gotten twenty minutes of respite, and now the pain had returned. And to make matters worse, she was alone in the Med Bay, Harley Quinn having gone off to do something or other. The loneliness and fear came hand-in-hand.

After another hour, the contractions were coming in much shorter intervals, and Harley was still nowhere to be seen. Agatha was starting to panic, her heart was starting to sink into her stomach. Had something happened to her, the only chance for the boys to survive in this evil place? They weren't going to make it through this, were they?

An hour after _that_, and the contractions were maybe five minutes between, and doubled in intensity and pain. Her water had finally broken, dousing her undergarments and dampening the bottom half of her robe. It startled her, made her even more afraid, afraid of dying right here and now, of her babies being born with no medical help in sight, of something going wrong and the babies dying before they ever had a chance at living life. Sweat dripped from her forehead into her teary eyes.

She kicked off her underwear and waddled over to the cabinets, using the wall and counters for support, and found a clean hospital gown to change into. It took some deep breathing to calm her shaky hands and some finagling before she finally had some dry clothes on.

She was making her way back to the bed when another pain hit her, and she fell to the floor, laying flat on her back and tensing her hips. She had no hope of getting back on her feet, much less back across the room, without some help.

Because she was alone, and in pain, and scared, and because she had already thrown her pride out the window, she cried, and she cried _hard._ She sobbed, and she screamed when contractions ravaged her body.

They were coming soon. Too soon for her, but at the same time not soon enough for her liking.

She screamed again.

And that's how her knight in shining armor found her moments later, crashing through the glass and searching the dark room for her. He heard her distress and was instantly on the alert, looking desperately for his little girl.

Lights flashed above, and a large metal curtain fell from the ceiling, covering the entire glass wall and effectively trapping the two of them in the Med Bay. Batman growled and pounded against the steel, but nothing- not even the tools in his utility belt- could make it give.

When Agatha screamed again, he forgot about the confinement and set to looking for his daughter once more, calling her name a few times before stumbling on her curled up form.

"R-Robin?" He asked hesitantly, almost in disbelief. She nodded tearfully at him, and that's when the lights came on, blinding at first. He brought his cape up to conceal himself and his protégé from the brightness, but as soon as he felt the abnormal motion the sliding of his cape made over her prone form, he was removing it again to stare speechlessly at the enlarged abdomen that hadn't been there the last time he had seen her.

He quickly took in her clothes, the puddle of amniotic fluid on the floor by the hospital bed, the enlargement of her stomach, her twitching muscles, her ashamed expression. And he growled.

"Who the fu-" He spat through grit teeth, making her wince and cry some more. She cut him off.

"Daddy, please, help me. Please don't hate me. It's not my fault." She begged, breath hitching as a contraction hit her once more, though she tried not to scream so much now that her father was there. He noticed her pain at once and decided that he would have to ask questions later, regardless of his wanting to interrogate the crap out of her and find out who the hell did this to her, because like it or not, that rape baby was coming soon, and he would sure as hell take pleasure in getting it out of her, to stop it from hurting her anymore.

He jumped into action, scooping her up and carrying her to the bed, laying her on it and running a hand through her hair.

"Agatha, I don't hate you. I hate the bastard who did this, and I promise you that I'll break our rule and kill him after this is all taken care of. I'm here now, I'll protect you." Despite the promise to murder someone, Agatha still took comfort from his words, her heart lifting. She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder, taking his hand wordlessly. They sat like that for a while, and after two minutes another pain was on her.

"AGH! Daddy, it hurts so much! It _hurts_!" She cried, squeezing his hand for all she was worth and gaining some comfort from his support. He kissed her forehead.

"I wish I could fix that, sweetheart." He whispered into her hair.

It became obvious that she was about to start pushing, so he rubbed her head and moved to the foot of the bed.

"Daddy, don't go!" She exclaimed, sounding like a child and not caring. He tried to smile at her, placing a hand on her knee.

"I'm not going anywhere. I just need to make sure this thing makes it out alright, okay?" He tried very hard to keep the anger out of his gentle tone. She tearfully nodded, grabbing onto the handrails to squeeze. It hurt too much for her to concentrate and speak, so she remained silent except for the periodic groaning or screaming.

Most girls would have been embarrassed to have their fathers anywhere near their… bottom half, especially in such a vulnerable time, but she wasn't. She trusted him, knew he could always be counted on and would never do anything bad to her. Also, she was in so much pain and knew that his assistance now was necessary.

A pressure built up soon enough, and she confusedly thought it felt sort of like she had to make a bowel movement. But she knew it was her body telling her that she had to push now.

Gathering herself, she bore down, pushing almost as hard as she could, and she could literally feel the baby descending. And dear God, it _hurt_.

She stopped, falling limp again, breathing heavily. That had taken a lot out of her.

"Atta girl, Gatzi." Bruce encouraged with as much positivity as he could muster, rubbing her bent knee soothingly. "You gotta push again." It wasn't a question, wasn't quite an order either, but it was more a statement of fact. His tone gave her some semblance of control again, and she breathed deeply before she went at it again. She felt a significant change as some of the pressure was relieved, but could still feel that this wasn't quite done, that some pressure still remained.

"There's its head." Her father commented, gently turning the infant sideways as he had learned in First Aid for All Situations classes. The first shoulder came easily enough, and he gently lifted its head and upper body only slightly until the second shoulder was pushed out. Agatha let out a gasp as the rest of the body slid right out. Bruce caught it- _he; most definitely a male_\- carefully, rubbing the soft skin with his hands (his gloves were removed, and his hands had been thoroughly sanitized) until a soft gasp was heard. The infant's cries split the air.

Agatha felt slightly lightheaded. She had just given birth. It was so surreal. One of the boys had arrived. She could hear his high-pitched wailing, and it brought fresh tears to her eyes as her heart skipped a beat. She had done it.

Bruce was now facing indecision, though. By all means, he was supposed to lay the newborn on his mother's chest, allowing the spread of warmth and increase in morale in both of them. But did he dare let this rape baby near her again? What if she shut down emotionally from the trauma?

_What if she got attached to him?_

Shaking the thoughts away, he decided to act in the best interests of both mother and child, since he knew deep down that the baby had done no wrong. He placed the sobbing baby on the teenager's chest and watched in shock as she _smiled_, placing one hand under his tiny bottom and the other on his soft back, rubbing him gently until his cries died down and he snuggled into her. For just a moment, she looked almost happy. Bruce looked away.

"Alright, Agatha, now we have to deliver the placenta, which is much less painful-" He began, already setting up the med kit with the gloves, and a trash can to safely dispose of the placenta. She looked up to him, however, and her expression was enough to make him pause.

"Daddy, there's a-another…. There's still Damian's little brother to be born." She said almost fearfully, stroking her son's thick hair. She watched as his jaw dropped, as so many unknown emotions flitted on his face.

"_Damian?_" He asked, almost angrily. She had _named_ him?

She winced. Yes, she hadn't planned on naming them, much less growing attached.

But the moment that child was placed on her chest, that living, _breathing_, innocent little baby, the moment she had felt his tiny heartbeat fluttering against her chest, she had instantly forgotten all excruciating birthing pains, enraptured in the beauty of the life _she_ had created, and carried, and brought into this world. And she was in love. Half of the lump that had so tortured her for eight months was now here, in her arms, snuggling into her warmth and probably memorizing the feel of her skin and the smell of her specific scent, innocently loving her and not knowing how much he was being loved back. She honestly couldn't help but absolutely adore him. He may have been the Joker's son, but she saw him as nothing other than _pure, good, innocent._

And a mother's love is something not easily taken away or changed.

She just knew she could never give them up; not for adoption, not to the Joker, not to _anyone._ They were her _sons_.

So when Bruce looked completely angry at the prospect of her keeping them, the _rape babies_, and when he looked like he wanted nothing more than to abandon the twins to the Joker, she snarled at him, because she knew exactly what he had been thinking. And he backed off, knowing that he couldn't dare to cross her when she had two babies to protect. And he had thought she was hardheaded and stubborn _before_ motherhood.

A sharp contraction brought her back from her blissful Cloud Nine, and she gasped, quickly consoling Damian when her sharp movement disturbed his slumber. Bruce was back into doctor mode once more, springing into action. First, he felt for a pulse in Damian's umbilical cord. He felt a faint one, and after a minute it stopped pulsing altogether. He took two pieces of string, tied them tightly in double knots- one three inches from the baby's belly, the other a few inches from that- and cut the cord with his sterilized knife. He took a blanket from one of the wall cabinets and laid it on the baby, scooping him up and wrapping him in it, placing him safely on a sheet he had lain on the floor. After a moment, he felt guilty and searched for an extra pillow; Agatha knowing what he was doing and handing him one of hers without hesitation. He gently placed it underneath little Damian, who looked none the wiser as to the change of surfaces.

Then it was back to work on his daughter, who had started pushing again while he was distracted with his newest grandson. (Oh boy, _grandson_ was such a strange word.) Alarmed, he ran forward and just managed to catch the baby's head, turn him ever so slightly, and catch the rest of his body before he slipped onto the sheets. This one was smaller than his twin, who looked to weigh a hefty eight pounds compared to this one's five or six. The smaller brother had thinner hair, as well.

It took Bruce rubbing a bit more vigorously for this one to start breathing on his own, but to Agatha, the cries were just as sweet as his brother's. She smiled again when her youngest was placed carefully on her chest, and she busied herself with massaging his tiny legs as the second cord was cut.

She had to think longer on this one's name; she had liked the name Jason, but Harley had ruined it for her by suggesting it, especially since it started with a J.

"Timothy." She said finally, placing a kiss on his fuzzy forehead. He cooed and squeaked in response, squirming to get comfortable on her warm chest. She took one of her own unused blankets and wrapped it around her son herself.

After the placenta was delivered and taken care of, after Bruce spent four minutes rubbing her abdomen to help slow her bleeding, and after she was comfortably dressed once more a good ten minutes later, she wordlessly gestured for her eldest, whom Bruce dutifully handed to her. She laid there, smiling, experiencing such a rush, a baby in each arm, both so beautiful to her.

"Agatha… Who's the father?" Bruce asked after a few minutes of bonding between mother and sons. Her smiled faltered; she looked at her father with sad eyes.

"Jack Napier." She replied, eyes begging him not to say, 'the Joker?' out loud. He wisely kept his mouth shut. "But it doesn't matter," she continued after a moment, determination settling on her features. "It doesn't matter who their technical father is. I'm going to raise them to be the best citizens in all of Gotham City, and they'll never be anything like him. They have me, and… And I hope they'll have you, Daddy." Her big blue eyes looked so hopeful. He knew he could answer either 'yes, they will' and have her forever adoration, or say 'no' and she would most certainly move out and take her sons to live elsewhere. Still, his head was spinning, and he just needed a moment to think.

"Agatha… This is too much. Too much at once. Let me think, alright? I'll figure this out." She seemed to wilt, but she nodded anyway.

When Timothy began to cry a few minutes later, she began rocking them both, murmuring in their ears and stroking their cheeks. Then it became obvious what they needed, so she quickly took one of the clean bedsheets, draped it over her head to hide them from view, and attempted to breastfeed the hungry infants. At first it was awkward, because there were two of them, they had to be angled just right, and she wasn't used to her larger breasts, if she was honest. She eventually worked it out, thankfully, and after half an hour both boys were fed and much more content.

And immediately afterwards, everything went to hell.

"Aww! Just look at my strapping young lads!" Came the world's most hated voice from the speaker in the corner. Agatha and Bruce both growled low in their throats. "Now now, don't be so grumpy. I must thank you, though, Batsy, for helping with their delivery, seeing as Harley is currently… indisposed.

However, I must be taking them now, thank you!" Then his voice was gone, and two darts shot from the walls- they couldn't tell where from- and hit both of the room's oldest occupants in the neck. Agatha went limp first, followed by a collapsing Bruce, and Gat felt absolutely helpless as the babies started to cry; she couldn't comfort them or do anything but look at them through her peripheral vision.

Then the Joker himself entered the Med Bay, sauntering up to the hospital bed, wasting no time in grabbing up both twins, and sauntering right back out, the steel doors falling back into place.

Minutes later, when she could move again, Agatha screamed, cried, and wailed until her voice gave out. And nothing Bruce did calmed her down. She was completely heartbroken, her babies gone from her bosom after only hours since their arriving there.

All of her loving efforts to save them had been for naught.

She wished she could die where she lay.

**I know, depressing ending, but you have my word on this: it will get happier in the future!**

**Did you like? I hope this met your expectations! I did rush it a bit at the end, because my mom is glaring at me, because I need to be getting ready for bed, but I needed to finish this and upload it before calling it a night, so yeah, it's rushed. I hope this hasn't ruined your experience as a reader.**

**Also, don't be offended/creeped out about Bruce delivering the babies. Sometimes you gotta do what the situation demands, and it's not meant to be anything inappropriate. He's a father delivering his grandsons because there's no other medical assistance present.**

**I know that Agatha's feelings about adoption by the end of this and her wants for the boys don't apply to all teen pregnancy cases, but I have a feeling that somewhere, a teen mother kept her baby because she fell in love. **

**Anywho, please leave a review! Your responses to the last chapter were amazing, and totally asterous!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Guess who's finally baaaack! ME!**

**Did you all have a good summer? I did!**

**Also, good news! My school got brand new laptops for us to use, ones that are much easier to type documents on! Yippee!**

**Please be sure to check out my profile page for info on the many story ideas I came up with during my personal summer exile, and please vote on my polls!**

**I love ya'll, thank you for your patience and kindness!**

**WARNING: Disturbing imagery at the end. Beware.**

**Ready for the story? Here you go, lovely readers!**

The Joker was pacing his personal room in the abandoned warehouse that had served as Robin's personal hell for almost a year. In his arms was a squirming infant, wrapped in nothing more than a thin sheet. He absentmindedly rocked the boy- the older of the twins, Jay- to settle him as he pondered what he should do now.

He had approximately half an hour before the Justice Loons came bursting in to rescue Batsy and his loyal whore. He needed to find an escape before then, get a new safehouse, find a nanny for his sons, and then, when he had time, recruit a new loyal whore of his own.

He snarled towards the empty room that used to belong to his girlfriend. She had… left him.

Just then Jacob started crying, making the psychopath groan in annoyance.

How would he survive these coming eighteen years?

_Line Break_

Wonder Woman smashed through the warehouse's concrete wall, scanning the large room for any signs of life. Following her was Black Canary, who had managed to leave the teens under the care of another Leaguer, and following after her was a very frantic Superman. Out of the three of them, Superman had the closest bond with Robin, him seeing her as a beloved niece, and so the opportunity to come and bring her home had him on edge and wanting to spring right into action.

The Kryptonian brought their attention to a glass wall to their left, from which he claimed to hear a muffled screaming. His laser vision quickly cut a hole in the thick metal curtain blocking the room from view.

They had prepared themselves beforehand for all the possible things they could find. They were adequately prepared for illness, injury, experimentation, an empty room, brainwashing, and even death. (At least, they said they were prepared. In all honesty, they weren't very sure they could hold it together if anything at all bad had indeed happened to the youngest of the crimefighters.)

Still, levels of preparedness aside, they hadn't even considered the situation they DID find themselves in.

There, before their very eyes, was the young girl they had lost over nine months ago. Her face was pale and her cheeks were hollow, her limbs were bonier than before, and she overall looked haggard. Her normally innocent and angelic features were twisted into an ugly look of anger and despair, and her big blue eyes were full of tears and loss. She wore a large hospital gown and was curled up in an awkward ball around herself. She was rocking back and forth and sobbing, sounding strangled, and her haunted eyes didn't seem to notice their presence.

At her side was Batman, her adoptive father, trying fruitlessly to calm down the distraught teen. His gloves and cowl were off, revealing his angered and worried expression. He looked slightly relieved at his friends' entrance.

Black Canary and Wonder Woman burst forward first, maternal instincts demanding that they try their best at comforting the girl they both cared for so much. Bruce let them take over without a fight, walking over to Superman with his Batman Face in place.

"Clark, locate the Joker. He has two babies with him; bring them back to the Watchtower. We'll get Agatha there." He scrubbed a hand down his face. "Please, get this done as soon as you possibly can."

Clark's questioning look was met with a meaningful glance at the young girl, and only when Superman used his x-ray vision to see past her protectively placed arms did he see how enlarged her stomach was. Looking deeper, he saw there were no babies inside, but the state of her womb and the stretching of her stomach's skin made her recent pregnancy just as obvious.

Angry understanding dawned on his face, and with a curt nod, he was off.

_Line Break_

"I think she's in shock." Canary said to Diana as they fussed over the curled-up Robin, keeping her voice down so as not to alarm the teen. Batman had left his protégé's side to speak with Superman.

"Poor, poor little sister." Diana lamented, running a hand through the unkempt hair. Agatha continued to ignore them, sobbing to herself.

However, when Dinah took her hand to offer support, she noticed something that the arm had previously concealed.

"Oh good God." She choked out, pointing at the enlargement of her belly. Diana carefully placed her hand on the girl's other arm.

"Agatha, what has happened to you?" She whispered, heartbroken. She slowly moved the appendage to better their view. They exchanged looks of horror.

"Artificial insemination, she said. Ha! Is-isn't that _funny_? Artificial, she says. No, it's so, _so_ real." Gatzi suddenly blurted, her chuckle coming out forced and hysterical. "Artificial changed my life, artificial is real, there is nothing artificial about it. Why'd she say something so stupid?" she was whispering, but her words contained tangible weight.

"Gat," Dinah soothed, "calm down. We're here to help you. Do you remember us?"

She ignored the question, looked Black Canary right in the eyes, a crazed glint in the blue depths.

"I think I'm going to kill their father." She said casually, sweetly, as though discussing a present she was thinking of purchasing for a friend.

They didn't know how to respond.

_Line Break_

Getting Agatha to the Watchtower was a challenge. She was completely unresponsive to their pleads to stand up and walk, and so Wonder Woman ended up taking the child into her arms and flying her to the nearest Zeta tubes.

Which, unfortunately, were located at Mount Justice, where the girl's team was currently hungrily awaiting any news on her status.

She really didn't want the older teens to have to see their little sister like this; so violated, so filthy, unkempt, so _broken_ and _used._

Thankfully, when she arrived, Barry (who was supervising the team while Canary was on the mission) was the first to reach her, and at her request was able to escort her to the main room and block the view of a comatose girl cradled against the woman's chest from the eager protégés.

"Is- is that _her_?"

"C'mon, Uncle Barry, let us _see!_"

"Goddamn it! Let us _through_!"

"Is she okay?"

They all flocked toward the two adults, being blocked by the Scarlet Speedster. While he used his speed to create a wall between the kids and their teammate, Diana quickly flew into the tubes, rushing the girl straight to the Watchtower's medical wing.

_Line Break_

"Well, besides a bit of malnourishment and dehydration, plus the strain of recent childbirth, she seems to be in fairly good shape." Martian Manhunter informed the waiting heroes. Batman, Wonder Woman, Black Canary, Green Arrow and the Flash had been in the cafeteria for over an hour, hoping against hope that the young girl was okay. Those who hadn't known already were briefed about what had happened to her during her several months in captivity.

"Can we see her?" Oliver inquired impatiently. J'onn nodded slowly, but informed them that she wasn't mentally stable right now, so they had to tread lightly.

They snuck into the medical wing where the lights were currently dimmed, each person's face paling at the sight of her. She was awake, but staring dazedly at the far wall.

"Agatha." Bruce said at once, dropping his cowl and rushing to her side. He sat in the bedside chair and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. She shakily turned her head and looked up into his eyes, her jaw trembling.

"H-he took them." She whispered. Then she curled up once more and screamed into her knees.

_Line Break_

"So…" Barry said awkwardly, dropping into the seat next to Bruce's. Agatha was now fast asleep, her one hand still clinging desperately to her father's. "You seem a little young to be a grandpa." He said, half joking.

Bruce was too tired to even attempt the Batglare. "She really cares about them." Was all he said, sounding a bit confused.

Barry blinked. "Well, yeah. I mean, she carried those boys for eight months, was in their company 24/7; it doesn't take long for people to grow on you, and after all the blood, sweat and tears she gave for them, it's no wonder she wouldn't want to give them up." He said seriously.

"But they're _rape_ babies. She shouldn't want anything to do with them." Bruce growled. Barry was taken aback, but quickly recovered.

"Well, sometimes you have to look past the circumstances and see what this really is:" He elaborated, choosing his words carefully, "it's a mother caring for her sons. Simple as that."

"I… I suppose you're right." Bruce relented, not having to look at his companion to know he was looking rather pleased with himself.

"I am. I mean, you were practically going insane when you were looking for her. Imagine how she's feeling right now! Her infant sons have been taken away from her, just hours after they're born!" Bruce's face falling showed Barry that he had struck a nerve. Standing with a sigh, he started to leave.

"Anyway, I'd better tell the kids how she's doing before they find a way to forcibly reactivate the zeta tube."

"Allen." His name being said stopped the speedster in his tracks.

"Yes?"

"The team doesn't learn about the twins. Understood?"

"Alright, but I'm just saying, they'll find out one way or another."

_Line Break_

Barry emerged from the zeta tube into a room filled with frustrated protégés. Artemis was pacing back and forth, Superboy and Megan were staring at him relentlessly, Aqualad was sitting on a chair nearby, and Wally… well, he was apparently pouting in his room. He would deal with him later.

"How is she?" Artemis was quick to demand. The others gathered around as he explained Robin's rescue and what exactly was wrong with her.

"Well, she's physically going to be fine, but she went through quite the ordeal and may not be herself for a long time. She needs some time alone to figure things out and recuperate." He said, sticking to being concise.

"Are you sure she'll be okay? I don't think we can stand to lose another team member." M'gann said quietly, turning their thoughts to Jess Todd. Jess had been recruited as Robin's understudy until Agatha herself could return to crimefighting, so as to keep the public from connecting Agatha Grayson's disappearance to Robin's. Unfortunately, two months ago, Jessica had been murdered by the Joker himself.

The Flash smiled at her sadly. "I'm sure she'll be okay. She's strong, she'll make it through this."

_Line Break_

Wally chuckled to himself at how easy it was to slip past his uncle. As soon as the man had appeared through the zeta tubes, he had taken advantage of them being momentarily active and had zipped inside, having already muted the computer's recognition voice as to avoid being caught.

Face set in determination, he ran through the halls of the Watchtower, searching for the medical wing where his best friend was undoubtedly being kept.

He couldn't take his uncle's explanations; he had to see the girl for himself to believe that she was okay.

"Aggie!" He exclaimed happily as he found the correct door, zipping inside to find his childhood friend on one of the beds. Batman had left her side minutes ago to speak with the other Leaguers.

She was sleeping, but his cry had her eyelids flicking open. She startled, sitting up quickly and curling up in a ball.

"Whaddayouwant!" She cried, rocking back and forth. Wally blanched. Then he slowed down, walking calmly to sit at her side.

"Ags, it's me, Wally. Don't you remember me?" He asked, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder. Her head shot up and she stared at him for a long time, her eyes wide and frantic.

"W-Wally?" She finally whispered, jumping forward and capturing him in a fierce hug. He easily reciprocated, sighing in relief and running his hands through her hair. Oh, how he had missed her!

She was still as small as he remembered, maybe a bit bonier, but still fitting in his embrace like a small child. She sobbed into his shoulder and he moved to sit on the bed.

"Wally! He took them! _He took them_!" She wailed, her voice slightly muffled by the fabric of his costume. He hushed her and rocked slightly, trying to be of some comfort.

"Who, Aggie? Who took who?" He tried, but she continued sobbing. He pulled her tiny form into his lap and encircled her in his arms, laying her head against his chest. He continued to rock slowly.

"Aggie, what's wrong? What did they do to you?" He whispered into her hair. Her crying started to die down.

"H-he took my babies from me." She whimpered, her voice barely audible. He was taken aback, ceasing his rocking motion to stare at her.

"W-what?" She grew frustrated, grabbing his hand and forcibly pressing it against her belly. It wasn't nearly as big as when she was pregnant, and it wasn't as firm now that the babies were absent, but it was still slightly distended and tensed. He froze.

"He took _my babies_! He took them from my arms!" She cried again, collapsing against his warm chest.

Kid Flash kept his hand on her abdomen, frozen in place, anger seeping into his thoughts as he took up rocking her again. She seemed to find it soothing when he did.

"Gatz, are you…. Are you pregnant?" He demanded, softly, squeezing her to himself tightly. Now that she was here, in his arms, he would never let anyone hurt her again.

"N-no! They've left me now, and he took them!" She stressed, tears running down her pale face.

This was when Batman re-entered, stopping short at the sight of the speedster holding his daughter. However, when he saw that she was responding to him and his comfort, he stayed back in the shadows and let it continue under his watchful supervision. This could be good for her.

Meanwhile, Wally was trying to comprehend the fact that at one point, his little sister had been pregnant. With, apparently, more than one baby. Someone had… had _raped_ her. His vision went red, even as he gingerly cuddled her to himself, trying to find solace in that fact that she was no longer in the clutches of her rapist.

"You've given birth?" He asked, kind of stupidly. She simply nodded and clutched at his bright yellow shirt. Another sob escaped her and he realized that this interrogation was probably starting to stress her out. He tried a different approach, forcing a sort of pleasantness into his voice, letting his genuine curiosity show as well.

"How many babies?" He asked with interest. She calmed a little and answered, "Two."

"Oh, so you're a mother of twins, eh? What- I mean, do they have names?" He kept his tone curious, calm, and light.

"Damian a-and Timothy." She replied shakily.

_Try to keep her thinking of the positives._

"What do they look like? Do they have anything close to my own good looks?" He asked jokingly. She sniffled with a little smile, wiping her eyes and looking rather dreamy as she thought of her precious babies.

"They're _beautiful_. Timmy's got a tiny button nose and this thin, wispy hair that's incredibly dark, and he's got very blue eyes that sparkle whenever he looks up at you. I-I think Dami absorbed all the 'genetic modification', because he's got the greenest eyes I've ever seen, and his lips are very red, and his hair is thick and brown. I-I miss them." She said. Wally was surprised at how unsurprised he was that she cared so deeply for them. She's always been a caring, loving person.

"You're right; they sound very beautiful to me." He complimented. She smiled a bit wider, problems momentarily forgotten. "And don't worry, Aggie. I swear that we'll find them and bring them back safely." She nodded solemnly, snuggling back under his chin. She hadn't realized how much she had been starved for affection these past few months.

This was when Superman walked in, his cape swishing behind him and adding to the sense of melancholy that he carried. He looked apologetic and overall sad.

He addressed Batman, but the room was small enough that the teens overheard everything said.

"The Joker was long gone by the time I found his hidden room. I did find, however, the body of Harley Quinn. She had been shot in the head hours before, it seems." Agatha paled at this news, but then he continued.

"I tracked him to an apartment across town, but that too was abandoned. I missed him by barely an hour. And that's where I found… the body of a newborn boy. I'm so sorry, Agatha." He addressed the girl, who was frozen, and produced a bundle of cloth with a frighteningly pale head sticking out of it. The neck was bent at an odd angle, and they could all tell on sight that the infant was very much dead.

Wally pulled his friend into a tighter hug and tried to soothe her as she whimpered and shook.

Never before had he seen her so broken.

**I know, I'm cruel. I promise, I will elaborate further in the next chapter. Sorry if anyone seemed OOC, but these ARE strange circumstances.**

**Hope you haven't given up on me yet and will continue to read!**

**Please be sure to leave a review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Since I ended the last chapter so terribly, I thought I'd make up for it by posting the explanatory chapter a wee bit early.**

**Hope you all haven't abandoned this story yet!**

**Please enjoy!**

"Aggie? Are you okay?" Wally whispered to his friend, who was sobbing against his shirt. It was a stupid question- she had just lost a baby, after all- but if she thought so, she didn't mention it.

She sniffled. "Wally?" She asked weakly. He 'hmm'ed in response, his voice rumbling in his chest and giving her comfort as she rested against it. She hesitantly broke away and looked him in the eyes.

"C-can you bring him to me?" Gat whimpered out pitifully. At her earlier request, both adults had left the room, leaving the body of her infant son lying limply on the bed closest to the door, two away from her own.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Ags?" He asked seriously. "Are you ready to face that?" She had been crying about it for a good four hours now.

Her face, while being pale and creased in agony, gained some of its old determination, even if it was in the smallest amount. She still looked defeated and tired and _done _with it all, but that familiar look in her eye almost made him smile. Almost.

"Yeah," she half-moaned, "I just want to… just want to hold him one last time." Without questioning her again, he placed his small acrobat on the bed and sped over, gently taking the forever-sleeping baby into his arms and carefully carrying him back to his mother. She was slow to reach out for him, but was much quicker to pull his body to her own once he was placed in her waiting arms. She held him with practiced ease, surprising since she had no younger siblings and had only held her own babies once.

He was lighter than she remembered either of her sons being, making her assume it had to be little Timothy, the lighter of the two. Did death make you lighter?

Perhaps the Joker had eliminated the weaker one. Maybe he had been sick of taking care of two babies, and needed a way out. Either way, she growled angrily in her throat.

"Oh, Timmy… my beautiful baby." She lamented as she automatically began to rock the tiny bundle, even though the baby was long past needing comfort. She took her free hand from under his legs and traced her finger delicately over his features, showing lovingness only a mother could possess. She swept a lock of brown hair from his pale, cold forehead. Paused.

Scrutinized him more intensely.

Tested his weight again.

Peeled back an eyelid.

Jumped in surprise.

Sat quietly for a moment.

Began laughing like a maniac.

"Aggie, what's wrong?" KF asked, concerned. She was laughing hysterically, tears running down her face even as she smiled widely. He started to wonder if maybe she had finally snapped.

"It-it's not him! It's not either of them!" She exclaimed, wiping her face with a relieved look. "Timmy has _black_ hair, not brown! And this is too small to be Damian, let alone Timmy! He's like, four pounds! Also, not a single one of them has brown eyes." By now Wally was peering over at the bundle, noting that yes, the infant did have brown eyes, unfocused and glassy as they were.

"He must have left this little guy to throw us off his trail for a while, distract us with your despair!" He deduced, taking the poor baby back into his arms and rushing him to Batman, who was manning the Watchtower computers.

_Line Break_

"You're right, West; this boy has no biological connection to Agatha." Batman reported, looking up at the DNA results.

"So this isn't her son! They're still alive out there!"

"Yes, they are. Meanwhile, someone will have to go to Gotham General and tell Tatum and Brad Colson that their newborn son, Bailey, was kidnapped from the maternity ward and killed." The Dark Knight said solemnly, effectively stifling Wally's moment of joy.

"Oh, no… He was taken from the hospital? His poor parents. Nobody deserves something like this to happen." Wally said somberly. Without another word, he sped off with the baby carefully folded protectively to his chest.

_Line Break_

As soon as Wally exited the Zeta tubes with Bailey, M'gann screamed. It wasn't a scream of surprise or of excitement, but a scream of utmost horror and despair.

"_Wally!_ Why would you bring us a _dead baby_!" She screeched, levitating towards him from the opposite end of the room. Her face was furious.

Wally immediately took to placating her, trying to calm his teammate. "I'm so sorry, Megs, but I need Uncle Barry to help with this situation, and I didn't know you'd be here. I'm sorry. He's in a better place, there was nothing anybody could do to save him." He soothed, looking depressed.

The Martian sniffled a bit, holding back tears. "I-I can _feel_ him. He's only recently left his body, and he's sad, and he's c-confused, and his body is so _empty_ that I can hear it echoing in my head." She was crying now, and barely holding it together. Wally gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder and sped away to find Barry before the other team members came to M'gann's aid.

"Uncle Barry, I need you to go to the hospital with me and deliver some bad news." Wally spent no time in blurting out as soon as he found the wayward speedster.

"Oh, really? And where exactly have _you_ been?" Barry scolded, not turning away from the sandwich he was making.

"Uncle Barry! We don't have-" A sideways glare from Barry, "- fine! I was visiting Aggie, okay? Now come on, we need to-"

"Woah, woah, Kid. You disobeyed direct orders? I told you to stay in the cave!"

"Uncle Barry, I understand you're frustrated, but right now, there are more important things going on!" He tilted the bundle in his arms to show his uncle, who choked. "This is Bailey. He was stolen from the hospital and killed to make us think he had killed one of the boys. Aggie could tell the difference, but we're almost a day behind the Joker and if we want to recover the real babies, we need to get going and take Bailey back to his parents first."

Barry, for his part, had to take a few moments to process the information he was just force-fed at lightning speed.

Wally groaned and grabbed his arm.

"Ugh, come _on!_"

_Line Break_

"M'gann, I'm sure there's a fully reasonable explanation for this." Aqualad placated, though the green girl continued her sobbing.

"Seriously? Reasonable? He was holding a dead _baby_. How is that reasonable?" Artemis grumped, not bothering to defend her boyfriend. Superboy was holding his distressed girlfriend against his chest when he tilted his head, listening.

_Who's 'Aggie'?_ He asked over the telepathic link.

_*sniff* It's probably Wally's nickname for Agatha, his best friend. _Said M'gann.

_Well, he was just being scolded for visiting her when his uncle told him to stay in the cave._

_But I thought he had snuck to the Watchtower to see Robin?_

_Ohmygosh! _Artemis exclaimed, smacking her forehead. _He and Agatha Grayson are close, and she's the adopted daughter of Bruce Wayne. She goes to my school!_

_Aren't there speculations that Bruce Wayne might be Batman?_

_Yes, and that would make Agatha Robin! It all fits!_

They briefly saw a memory of a small freshman taking a selfie with an irritated Artemis, chuckling that eerily familiar cackle and saying 'we'll laugh about this someday'. There was a collective nod of agreement.

_Okay, so he went to visit Robin and then what happened? _Aqualad inquired.

Superboy gave a half shrug.

_He said the baby was Bailey, taken from a nearby hospital and killed to 'make it seem like he killed one of the boys', whatever that means. He said Aggie could tell the difference, but they were still a day behind the Joker and if they wanted to recover the real babies, they had to hurry and get going. I have no idea how any of that makes sense._

_Well, why would the Joker leave a dead baby behind? How would that hinder us catching him? _Just mentioning Bailey made M'gann shed a few tears.

_And how would Robin be able to tell the difference between a decoy and a real kidnapped baby?_

"Guys," Artemis said aloud. "What if it's _her_ baby? The kidnapped one?" She sounded angry.

"Th-that's impossible! … Isn't it?"

**Alright, so here's your not-much-happier chapter, but with a bit more explanation. I hope this helps and that you're enjoying so far!**

**And yeah, they haven't learned her identity even after two years. Well, now they know, at least.**

**If you haven't noticed, I'm a big sucker for big reveals, so you can expect quite a few in really any of my stories.**

**Anywho, see ya'll next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning: 1 F word usage, mourning parents, sensitive material, mentions of some pretty graphic and classless sexual activity, and filler-chapter-ness ahead. Sorry for the late update. Here you go, lovely readers!**

**Also, some badass big sister Artemis! I love the interactions between Artie and Rob! :)**

"It's The Flash!"

"What? I thought he was The Streak."

"Nah, dude, he changed it like, four years ago!"

"Look! It's Kid Flash, too!"

"Wh-what the hell is he holding?"

"Looks like a baby!"

"Did they rescue a baby?"

"Yeah, maybe it's that Colson baby that went missing!"

"What heroes!"

Wally choked up at the commentary from the various onlookers as they made their way through the hospital halls. He kept the small baby clutched close to his chest, the blanket folded over the child to keep his deathly visage hidden. Barry noticed Wally's shame and depression and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, gently leading him towards the maternity ward.

"I'm proud of you for doing this, Kid." He murmured. His nephew nodded despondently and continued the trek.

Finding the correct room was fairly easy; most were empty, and only one had police officers guarding the door.

The officer on duty nodded to them in respect, then moved aside to let the two heroes through.

"Honey, look!" Brad Colson exclaimed, nudging his harried and sobbing wife. She sniffled, wiping her red cheeks against her bare arm, and lethargically tilted her head upwards to inspect their visitors. Her eyes made Wally want to choke up again; they were identical to those on the infant in his arms. They were a warm and intelligent brown, and they widened upon seeing their uniforms.

"A-are you…?" She whispered, voice hoarse. To see another mother so broken made Wally's eyes tear up, so he busied himself with examining the seams on his gloves while his uncle did the talking.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Colson." Barry greeted softly, voice quiet and sympathetic. "I'm the Flash, and this is my protégé, Kid Flash. We're normally from Central City, so you may not know us." Tatum ignored the introductions and leaned as far to the side as the rails of her hospital bed would allow, trying to see past the elder's form.

"Wh-what is he holding?" She demanded, tears welling up in her eyes. Brad walked over to get a closer look for her. Wally winced with each footstep that brought the baby's father closer, wanting so very badly to run away.

He stayed stock-still.

The man's green eyes were narrowed suspiciously, and when he was past Barry and able to see Wally's cargo, they shot wide open.

"I-I-" He gasped, rushing forward, "I know that blanket! My mother made that for Bailey! Give him here, _now_!" He shouted angrily, face turning a shade of red brighter than Wally's hair. The teen recoiled in surprise. The man was angry with him?

"I'm…" He whispered, holding out the bundle for Brad to take. The man swept up the baby's body, holding it closer to himself protectively. "I'm so… I'm so sorry."

Tatum tensed up in horror.

"_Why? _Why are you sorry?" She snapped, tears and snot running down her face. Brad stepped backwards to be next to her, and together they peeled back the patterned fabric.

Tatum screamed, jumping backwards as far as she could possibly go, covering her face with her hands and shaking uncontrollably.

"B-Bailey?" Brad stuttered. His face was ashen and disbelieving. His hands began to quiver, and tears pricked the corners of his anguished eyes.

"How _could _you?" The woman shouted, clawing at her cheeks. Wally paled further, and his mask was now soaked through with regretful tears.

"I- I didn't do this! I swear! I-I- He-" Barry interrupted him, blocking his blubbering nephew from view.

"Listen, you two. I know you're agonized, I know you're angry. But don't take it out on my partner. The Joker kidnapped and… and killed Bailey, Superman found his body, and Wally wanted to bring him to you so you could have closure. He's not to blame for your son's death." He placated, holding up both hands.

Brad bore his teeth menacingly, clutching his son's corpse like it would pop and reveal a living baby inside. Then he sniffled, face crumpling, and he fell to his knees, gently stroking the soft hair on the infant's head.

"Oh, Bailey… my son, my beautiful son…. What are we going to do?" He asked no one. Tatum scrambled to sit on the floor beside her husband, running her delicate fingers over her baby's relaxed features. When Bailey didn't respond, she pulled her hand back and let out a cry, collapsing against Brad and wetting his shoulder. He shifted Bailey to his other arm, resting one arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

"Oh, Tate! Why?" He murmured to her, clenching his teeth in sorrow. She just sobbed again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Wally swayed in place, feeling lightheaded from the emotional overload. Barry steadied him with a firm hand, and together they left the shattered little family to their mourning. The teen's feet seemed to drag of their own accord, and his head hung low, against his chest. He let tears coat his cheeks, unhindered. His breaths were uneven and shallow.

"Kid, you alright?" Barry asked, concerned.

Saying nothing, Wally let out a sob and ran off.

_Line Break_

Alfred watched from the corner as Agatha punched the practice dummy for the hundredth time in a row, concerned.

She had been returned to Wayne Manor two weeks ago after Martian Manhunter gave her a clean bill of health. Since then, she had been working out day and night, trying to get back into shape and lose the baby weight she had accumulated during captivity. Already her stomach was flat again, the only proof that she'd ever given birth being the stretch marks marring her muscular stomach. She poured every ounce of energy and determination into the task, making quick progress in impossible time. Soon she could rejoin her comrades in the field, and then she would take back what was hers.

When she got to combat training, she always seemed angrier than before. She would be incredibly violent in her efforts to hit the targets and to land punches on a reluctant Bruce. She would growl and snarl and let out fierce battle cries, so unlike her previous laid-back fighting style. Sometimes one could see tears in her eyes if one looked close enough.

"Miss Agatha, do you require anything?" He asked primly, knowing her response already.

She didn't pause her attack, sending a fierce knee into the dummy's gut.

"No… I'm good… Alfred." She grunted between punches and kicks. He sighed and went back upstairs.

_Line Break_

"Gatzi, it's been three weeks. I think you should return to school." Bruce seemed to regret saying as much, but the words needed to be said at some point. "I know you're still recovering, but staying cooped up at home and obsessing will do nothing to help the boys. We'll find them, I swear on my parents' graves, but you need to let others take over for a bit." Her eyes widened- he never swore on anything involving his parents unless he was dead serious with every intent to keep his promise.

But did she really want to give up on her babies? Let someone else look for them instead? Even if only for a few hours?

She had been working tirelessly for days, watching newspapers and crime alerts like a hawk, waiting for the Joker to rear his ugly head so she could swoop in and snatch up her babies.

But the look in her father's eyes made her pale a little, and she knew that there really wasn't a choice in the matter.

She was to resume classes at Gotham Academy the very next week.

_Line Break_

Artemis sighed. And blew a stray hair from her face. And sighed again. Pushed a stray strand behind her ear. Coughed. Said _screw it_, and completely re-did her ponytail, almost elbowing one of her many monotone classmates in the face while doing so. He frowned at her, and she smiled sheepishly before pointedly returning her bored gaze to the front of the gymnasium, where the principal was pacing and waiting for his note cards to be prepared.

They were having an emergency assembly in the ginormous gym, every single student and staff member crammed into the strangely tightly packed bleachers. The temperature and tension in the room was quickly rising with each passing moment. Why the hell were they being called here? What was this about?

Finally Miss Kimbien, the secretary, rushed in and passed the stack of note cards to the relieved principal. He cleared his throat and shuffled the small cards, reading each carefully before putting the whole stack in his pocket.

"Thank you all for coming in such an orderly fashion." He began, voice so strong and authoritative that he had no need for a microphone. "We regret to take you from your studies, but what we have to announce is of the utmost importance." Artemis narrowed her grey eyes in suspicious anticipation.

Around her, the mood slowly shifted from one of panic and annoyance to one of intrigue and unease.

"As you all are surely aware of, our very own student, Agatha Grayson-Wayne, was kidnapped almost a year ago." There was an explosion of murmurings. He cleared his throat, they silenced, and he continued grimly. "Well, as it turns out, she has finally been returned, alive, to her father." Now the murmurings were replaced with outbursts of surprise, some positive and some negative. Artemis frowned, already knowing what he would say next but still dreading it.

Sure enough, Mr. Sym did not at all brighten when he shared this news, only getting more and more solemn.

"However, the main reason we have you all gathered here is to discuss a very difficult topic, and also how she will be treated upon her return to school next Monday.

During her almost ten months in captivity, Miss Grayson was kept in deplorable conditions, treated very poorly, and worst of all, raped." He paused to let this information sink in. There was a stunned silence among the teenagers, although Barbara Gordon had begun to quietly sob. "As a result of this, Miss Grayson is now a mother of twins, which are still in the hands of her captors and are currently being sought by police."

Although she and the team had deduced as much already, the archer still jumped slightly, the fact that they had actually been right about Agatha Grayson being Robin making her feel unadulterated horror and shock. Or maybe that was because of the news that Robin had not mothered _one _missing baby, but _two._

Barbara was sobbing even louder.

"Now that you are all aware of her situation, we must start with the new school policy: any and all mistreatment towards this girl will be punishable by expulsion or even arrest, if I believe such actions are required. She is in a very precarious mental state, and the main reason her father wants her to come back to school so early is so that she can be among friends to help with the healing process.

Teachers: you are expected to be lenient towards Miss Grayson; no raising your voice for any reason towards her, and if she falls behind, be patient with her. If you see any form of bullying whatsoever, do not hesitate to send the offenders to me.

Students: make an extra effort to be kind to her. If she wants space, fine, give her space; but if you feel that she needs assistance or just plain kindness, do not hesitate to provide. Respect her wishes, and do not force her to do _anything_ she doesn't feel comfortable doing. Don't talk about her ordeal, her kidnappers, her children, _anything_.

This school is famous for its respectability. Show just how respectable you, as the student body, can be.

That is all, but keep what I have said in mind.

You are dismissed."

_Line Break_

Agatha received a welcome fit for a princess.

A giant banner was hung in the commons, and all students were wearing their goofiest clothing- a project coordinated by the student council. Hundreds of students happily sang their joy at her return, and Artemis and Barbara were privileged with hugging rights as soon as she entered the glass double doors.

Upon entering and seeing what her classmates had done for her, Gatzi paused, blinking owlishly, and cracked a tiny, shy smile. It was amazing how compassionate her peers could really be.

They all hungrily soaked in her appearance.

She wore her usual school uniform, a white dress shirt with light blue stripes underneath a navy blue cardigan and completed with a pair of black dress pants. On her feet were her uniform black shoes. She was way skinnier than when they last saw her so many months ago.

Her hair was longer than they all remembered, reaching just past her waist now. On her head was a giant red bow (courtesy of Alfred, who had, since her grade school days, insisted she play the part of cute, shy little girl to further distance her school personality from Robin's).

"W-wow." She said softly, daintily, as the redhead and the blonde scooped her tiny frame into a hug. She kept her eyes locked on the hand-made welcome banner, blue orbs shining in innocent wonder. She smiled a little wider.

"C'mon, let's get you to first hour." Artemis hummed, and she and Barbara each grabbed a sleeve, dragging the girl to her locker. As Agatha turned the combination lock, Artemis leaned against the locker beside her.

"How are you, Grayson?" She asked carefully, a soft smile on her face. Agatha paused, hand halfway in her locker, and looked sad. Her eyes got glassy before she shook herself and resumed her task.

"I-I… well, I'm fine, I suppose." She whispered, and then walked halfheartedly to Honors Chemistry.

_Line Break_

Gatzi worried her bottom lip distractedly as she sat in her first class of the day, all but ignoring her teacher as the obese woman lectured about the effects of volume on an object's mass. Honestly, she didn't even have her textbook, instead having only brought her spiral notebook to class.

Mrs. Cassidy stopped for a breath, noticed the girl's distractedness, frowned sympathetically and continued as if nothing was wrong. She would let Grayson off the hook.

Sighing dejectedly, Agatha picked up her pencil and opened the notebook, flipping to the first empty page she could find and immediately setting to work. She poured all attention into her task, her drawing becoming more than mere doodling as her hand flew across the paper.

On the lined sheet were two sets of eyes, both very well drawn and appearing to be staring up at you. One set was open wider than the other, the eyes full of sparkle and happiness. The other eyes were calmer, seeming more mature but not without that little gleam of childish joy.

When she finished shading around the edges, Agatha immediately stopped drawing and began to cry into her hands.

_Line Break_

The College Algebra teacher, Mr. Tanner, was called down to the office for some help with the planning for the upcoming football game as soon as the bell rang. Unfortunately, his 'babysitter' was Mrs. Chance, who was a lazy pig notorious for falling asleep in any class she taught.

Sure enough, the woman was out like a light after a record five minutes.

Meaning that it was basically a free-for-all for the next half hour.

Thus meaning that it was time for the natural bullies to get their bullying out of the way.

"Grayson." Aaron Take snapped, approaching her desk. His usual lackeys were home sick today. Startling, Agatha snapped her head up and blanched. This was what she had feared! "I heard you're a whore now. What, I give you five bucks and you drop your pants? Or do you jump guys for even less than that? Do you give package deals to the one who can make the most babies in one go?" His voice was oozing with hatred. She held back a fist and her tears, opting instead to look away and cover her face. This was too much, too soon.

"You know what?" He asked with a sneer. "I'll bet you forced those poor bastards to take your bastard kids, didn't you? Couldn't handle being mommy? I'll bet they begged you not to leave those brats with them." He whispered in her ear.

That was it. She was not going to freaking take this from a puny little wimp like Aaron Take. She had been through too much to let his harsh words break her down. She was not going to be the victim anymore, not after a whole goddamn year of it.

Agatha opened her mouth, fully ready to speak her effing mind, when she was beat to the punch. Literally.

Aaron went flying back impossibly far, smacking into the wall with a groan. Artemis then lurched toward him, placing both hands smoothly around his throat.

"Fuck off, asshole." She growled into his face, in one smooth motion slamming his skull into the ground, knocking him immediately unconscious.

The entire class stared on in shock.

Rolling her eyes, Artemis stood and dusted off her uncomfortable skirt, taking the smaller girl's arm and pulling her out into the hallway.

"A-Artemis?" Agatha asked, the stutter for once not a part of her shy girl act. The blonde huffed, not stopping as they marched for the girls' restroom.

"Yeah?"

"W-why'd you-?"

"He was being a tool, and you don't deserve to be treated that way." The taller girl led Agatha into the restroom, taking her to the closest sink and turning on the faucet. She wet a paper towel and wiped it under the Gypsy girl's eyes, Agatha just now noticing the tears coating her face.

"O-oh." She whispered, folding her hands in front of her legs and bowing her head in shame. She felt so embarrassed that she had needed rescuing, that Artemis was probably now judging her too. "Thank you, you're a good friend." This gave Artemis pause, but a slow smile worked its way onto her face.

"Hey, that's what big sisters are for, birdbrain." She laughed, giggling even harder at the way Agatha's head shot up, the way she made gasping sounds and mouth movements like a fish out of water.

"H-how-?" She gasped out between shaky breaths, utterly taken by surprise. The archer pat her firmly on the shoulder, took out her phone and promptly took a selfie with a speechless and gaping Gatzi.

"We'll laugh about this someday." She replied, going to the 'draw' option on the photo editor and drawing a black mask around the smaller girl's eyes in the picture, showing it to her with another laugh. Getting the message, Agatha laughed too.

"I guess we _are _actually laughing about it, aren't we? I didn't actually think we'd do that!" She stopped, frowning a little. "Well, I knew _I _would be, but you? I thought you'd be stringing me up by my heels and filling my eardrums with melted candlewax."

_Line Break_

Aaron Take was expelled from Gotham Academy, his third consecutive expulsion from a school in that semester alone.

Artemis may not have been awarded for what she did to Take, but she wasn't punished, either. In fact, the principal had slightly smiled at her as she was leaving his halfhearted lecture on fighting with other students.

***Winces at extreme language used.**

**Sorry about that one word, guys, I don't think I'll ever be using it again. Other cuss words are fabulous, but my mama raised me against constantly using the F word.**

**Ah, Artie, you're awesome :)**

**I know, OOC-ness, rushed-ness, and the end probably didn't make much sense, but this chapter is a bit of a filler chapter, because I didn't want you to starve from my neglectful updating schedule. Hectic month, I'll leave it at that and avoid boring you with excuses.**

**I have made a visual of Agatha in her school uniform on Deviantart, it's called 'Agatha Grayson', was made on the website - in case you were wondering, and my username is 'thisvioletofmine'. Check it out!**

**More involving the team and twins to come in the next couple of chapters!**

**Are you enjoying this story? Please leave me a review to share your reading experience!**

**Love you all!**

**-Violet**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, lovelies! I'm not even gonna bother giving you any excuses for lateness other than this word of advice: don't have three fanfictions going simultaneously. :/**

**Everyone enjoy Halloween? Happy early Thanksgiving! **

**This chapter is unbearably short, but isn't a filler chapter as it **_**does **_**move the plot along at the pace it's supposed to. I make it short ****on purpose****, and I promise next chapter will be longer.**

**This chappie focuses on her pent-up emotions and the aftereffects of the trauma she endured that she's been keeping at bay for a while.**

**Warnings: Mentions of rape and infant death, and lots of insanity.**

Agatha didn't realize she was crying. Really, she didn't. Honest. She was used to the feeling of it by now, and so her mind just generally tuned it out when her eyes would tear up at the drop of a hat. It was just the stress and the leftover hormones, she rationalized. She couldn't afford to worry about her mental health right now, not when she had to be at her best constantly as she searched desperately for her sons.

But right now, she was ignoring the tears for a completely different reason.

"Oh, Robin! We've missed you so much!" M'gann cried, squeezing her shoulders tighter. Miss Martian, Artemis and KF had instantly swept her into a group hug as soon as she emerged from the zeta tube.

She smirked, removing her domino mask and looking them each in the eyes.

"Please, call me Aggie or Gatzi. I'm pretty sure you've all figured it out by now anyways." They all smiled lightly but didn't say anything.

Aqualad stepped forward from awkwardly watching the affectionate display.

"It's great to have you back, my friend." He said sincerely. Superboy just grunted in a somewhat friendly way.

"Thanks, guys. Really. You're the best." She beamed, hugging her friends closer. It was so nice to be back with her family. The familiarity of it was immensely comforting.

Nobody commented on her tear-streaked face.

_Line Break_

Robin was smiling so happily as Superboy fell to the ground. The floor announced his failure and he easily accepted her hand as she helped him stand, though her arm shook comically at the strain of pulling even a fraction of his weight. Then she readjusted her ponytail and chose Wally as her next opponent.

"Oh, it's _on!_" Kid Flash whooped. Black Canary watched from the sidelines as he lunged at the girl at dizzying speeds, each offense being countered easily.

Still, she was troubled by how much the acrobat's fighting style had changed. Her job today was to study Agatha, to determine if she was ready to return to the field. And she didn't like what she saw.

While the girl had gotten significantly stronger since the last time Dinah had seen her- traumatized, crazed, still bearing the marks of recent childbirth- she had also gotten more aggressive than ever. Her defensive tendencies had morphed into fierce offensive charges, still strategic and effective, but worrisome all the same. There was a feral glint in her eyes as she leaped above Wally's head, almost succeeding in landing a solid kick to the top of his skull but missing at the last possible moment. She didn't cackle her usual sadistic glee as she fought; instead there was only an intense focus and determination to beat her opponent into the ground. One moment she was smiling proudly, the next she was grim as though fighting for her life.

Wally, taken by surprise as his best friend fought completely out of character, just barely dodged a forceful punch to the jaw, zipping behind the girl as her arm was still swinging and wrapping his arms around her in a restraining hug. That was another thing that was worrisome- before, Agatha's fighting was an art form, tried and tested and perfected to be the most difficult to oppose; now that she had changed to something new and more brutal, she left herself open too often despite how formidable the brunt of her attacks may have been.

"Let _go _of me, bastard!" Robin snapped scathingly, whipping her head around frantically as she tried to wriggle free. His grip stayed firm, though his expression was slightly alarmed. She had never insulted him that way, nor had she ever reacted this way before.

Agatha was in her own little world right then, her brain clouded with fear at how powerless she suddenly was- she didn't like it, not one bit. Suddenly those arms were pale and tipped with freakishly long nails, and the one holding her was laughing in her ear, breathing down her neck, sick enjoyment and _lust _in the sounds. She knew that he wanted to take her; to have her the way he had probably intended to before a more guaranteed method of impregnation had come along. There was nothing saving her now that she had outlived her usefulness. And she _fought_, because she was _not _going to lose again. He had taken too much from her, and she was done with it.

"Let _go _of me before I slit your goddamn _throat,_ you pig!" She snarled, gnashing her teeth manically. But the Joker didn't release her, and so she finally freed her arm and wrapped it around his neck, squeezing until he released the rest of her and allowed her to tackle him to the ground. She sat on his chest and aimed punch after punch at his smiling face, wishing he would stop taking things as a game; stop tormenting her with his eternal grin. She didn't realize she was sobbing until her eyes became too blurry with water to effectively see anything. Her lungs refused to take oxygen, and her breath kept hitching.

"-gie! Aggie! Calm down!" Came a pleading voice that broke through the trauma and the fear and rage. She paused in her assault, stumbling backwards and landing in a pile of warmth and movement. What was she sitting in? She let out a cry of alarm and scrambled to escape, but at least four sets of groping hands grabbed her and held her in place, effectively immobilizing her.

"Let go! _Let go! _I- I can't-! I don't want-!" She screamed, twisting and writhing. The nightmarish figures just held her tighter, making her double her efforts to free herself. They were everywhere, and they were _loud_, and they wouldn't stop _grabbing _her, and it was too much… too much…. Her brain struggled to process the onslaught of sensory input and her reason couldn't find a firm footing in her panic. She was back in her personal hell, she had never been rescued, her babies had died as soon as they left her- _that's why I can't open my eyes from this nightmare because they'll be lying there staring up at me and I'll lose it oh shit I'll lose it I'm losing it Don't look at the dead, Aggie, they'll ask you _why _and you won't know how to answer so you'll take that scalpel Kassey hid and slit your wrists again and you'll laugh and the Joker will laugh and he'll rip you apart but you'll let him because you deserve it because _you killed them.

And she screamed and sobbed until her voice gave out, and even then she continued until a needle was jammed into her neck and she was gifted with peaceful, unrelenting darkness.

**I know this type of reaction might seem sudden and out of nowhere, considering how she's behaved up until now, but know that she's been keeping herself strictly away from the healthy method of allowing yourself to cry and to express the emotions you're feeling (with the exception of when she's under total stress and can't control it). She hasn't seen a therapist yet because she refuses to do anything about herself until Timmy and Dami are found. (That's not a good thing, BTW, because seeking help right away is always the best answer, but she's a teenager and stubborn and Bruce is willing to agree with her terms for now.)**

**Anywho, please feel free to drop a review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, Lovelies!**

**Merry Christmas!**

**Warning: The ensuing OC will be much more tolerable (I generally HATE OCs) by the end of the chapter, promise! This story (hopefully) hasn't gone to crap!**

**Please note: because of being busy or being struck with writer's block, updates will be a long time between. I'll never abandon this story, but be patient with my hectic and random updating schedule! Once a month is mostly the best to expect.  
**

Agatha slept for two days.

Throughout the first twelve hours, worried members of the Team would take turns hovering outside of the medical bay, staring in through the polished glass to watch her still form. After morning dawned and she was still out cold, they began to lose hope of her waking soon and began to wander off, doing their own things but still staying at the Mountain for when she finally did wake.

Black Canary made a habit of walking by the infirmary once every hour; Batman was forced off-planet for a mission and wouldn't be back for several days, and so she had promised to keep Agatha safe until he returned. She thought it best that he not be told of the girl's recent outburst so he wouldn't be distracted and get himself injured or killed.

By seven o'clock on the second day, Dinah was starting to really show the signs of fatigue. She hadn't slept since the incident, having kept herself busy with a million other things- worried Team members, a scarred Wally, and, most prominent, using the time between check-ins to run a constant search and investigation on the main computer terminal. She looked for something, _anything_ that involved the Joker- but he seemed to have vanished. She was beginning to think that, despite probability and projected behavior, he might have actually fled to another part of the country.

She walked slowly down the hallway, heels clacking rhythmically as she got closer to the medical bay to check on Robin once again.

The girl was sitting up on the cot, and she had her hologlove displaying something right in front of her face. Canary wanted to immediately rush in and start asking questions, but intuition restrained her. Instead she crept slightly closer and watched from the shadows, carefully listening in when it became apparent that Agatha was speaking.

"-eally, Lizzie? You're _sure_?" Came her young voice, full of excitement and tears.

"_Yes, Robin. My sources have informed me of where he will be at approximately four AM." _Came the voice of another girl. From this distance, Canary could just barely pick up the image from the videochat- a blond girl with some kind of face paint and _lots_ of piercings. Her voice sounded strange and slightly robotic, like that of Red Tornado, but the emotion in her voice was undeniable.

"Where? _Where_, Lizzie?" Agatha demanded, muscles tense. Text flew across the screen, too small and too fast for Dinah to ever hope to read.

"_It's an abandoned elementary school here in Mason. I'll be waiting at the specified rendezvous point in six hours." _The voice said.

"I'll meet'cha there, Saint." Robin replied, terminating the conversation. So she was planning on sneaking out, was she? Canary blinked. This 'Lizzie Saint' person knew where the Joker was? He was the only one they could have been discussing. And Mason City was a small city- right on the outskirts of Gotham! He was close!

She was pulled from her thoughts as the girl jumped from the bed and began gathering her gear from the bedside table. She entered.

"You're not going anywhere, Robin." She said gently. Agatha jumped a little and whipped to face her, eyes wide through her domino mask. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Like _hell _I'm not! You'd better get out of my goddamn way, Dinah." She snapped, a slight growl in her voice. She turned back to the table and snatched up the rest of her gadgets.

"Rob- Agatha. I know you want to find him. I know you want to find _them_. But you are in no condition to be out in the field." Canary soothed. Agatha snorted derisively and continued preparing. "Agatha, listen to me." She tried again, placing two strong hands on the small girl's shoulders. The teen paused and turned to the woman.

"Dinah, I _have _to do this. I _can _do this. I need my babies back!" She cried imploringly.

"And you will get them back, Gatzi. We will get them for you, I promise. But you're not stable enough- emotionally or mentally- to go on this mission. It's too personal, and also, after the episode you had, there's no way I can allow you to go with a clear conscience. We still need to discuss what you went through those many months."

"There's no _time _for that now! We only have a few hours to catch him!" She shrugged Dinah's hands off of her shoulders and tried to shove past her; Dinah was stronger, though, and refused to let her pass.

"Agatha, did he rape you?" She asked bluntly, eyes softening.

Gatzi's eyes widened in surprise and her breath seemed to leave her. "W-what?" She whispered. Suddenly her fight was gone and she was standing shakily, looking lost and confused.

"The Joker. Did he rape you?"

"N-no. He didn't." Was the weak but determined reply. Canary sighed and carefully led the girl back to the bed, sitting beside her on it. She wrapped a motherly arm around the teen's thin frame supportively.

"Agatha," She murmured, "you disappeared for over nine months. When we finally found you, you had just given birth to two boys. I know you were never sexually active before- correct?" Agatha nodded, looking a bit insulted. "Yeah, because you would never want to disappoint your father or risk getting pregnant. You're too smart for something so artificial and petty as teenage sex. And yet, giving birth is not something a virgin does- besides in the Bible, of course. It really just doesn't happen. And your reaction to being held down, restrained against your will- it was worrisome, Gat. So please, tell me the honest truth. Did he rape you?"

The girl in her arms shook a little, biting her lip.

Then she looked up at Dinah and took off her domino mask, revealing teary blue eyes.

"No, Dinah. He didn't." She took in an uneven breath. "I told you when you found me- remember? 'Artificial impregnation', or whatever Kassey called it. She surgically removed one of my eggs, fertilized it, treated it with some sort of genetic modification, and then put it back inside of me. It split into two, and that's how I had twins." Dinah nodded in relieved understanding- regardless of the resulting pregnancy, she was glad the girl hadn't been raped. "I-I reacted that way because… Well, living in fear for nine months that some monster will kill you when you've outlived your worth… Also, I always had this irrational feeling that he had _wanted _to rape me before deciding that surgical procedure would be more effective. It just… was hell on my nerves, I suppose." She confessed.

"And you want to go out and confront the monster that made you go through all of that? Agatha, how do you think that would turn out? You're not ready to face him, not yet, and that's okay. You've been through an intense trauma. You shouldn't _have _to be in charge of taking your sons back. Let your team handle this, alright?" The girl opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced when Canary squeezed her tighter and continued. "They don't like to see you suffering, Agatha. They love you like you're their little sister. They know how much those boys mean to you, and will do everything in their extensive power to get them safely home to you. Working together, I'm confident they can hold their own against the Joker, at least long enough to retrieve your sons. Have faith in them, okay?"

Agatha sobbed and clutched her ribcage tightly, but nodded reluctantly. "O-okay." She whispered. "But… Can they please work with Saint? She… I've been in communication with her for a few weeks; we've worked together to track him down… She's a professional when it comes to crimes against children, so I asked her to help a while ago… She'll be able to help them a lot, I promise. And she can keep me updated on how it's going…" The request was reasonable enough, and considering this 'Saint' seemed to have all of the necessary information, Dinah obliged.

While she went to brief the Team, Agatha, wailing, locked herself in her room.

_Line Break_

"Do you think this'll work?" M'gann asked as she piloted the Bioship. They had been flying for nearly half an hour in silence, and would be approaching the rendezvous point in a few minutes.

"I dunno, Megs. I would feel better about this if Black Canary could come with." Wally answered.

"Yeah, but she's staying with Aggie to make sure she doesn't come after us."

"Still, why couldn't another Leaguer come with?"

"Busy. Besides, from the articles I read, this 'Saint' girl is a very skilled combatant. She's taken down entire child trafficking operations without any outside help at all!"

"I still don't like this."

They finally located the rendezvous point and landed nearby.

"Are you all ready?" Aqualad asked them as they all double-checked their gear.

"Mm." Came the unanimous hum of agreement.

The Bioship was camouflaged before they made their way over the rooftops of Mason City, illuminated by a crescent moon and a few stars.

Artemis led the way to the designated roof, that of Kingsley Mattresses.

At first there was nothing. No sounds, no strange figures.

"Is she a no-show?" Wally whispered.

A throwing knife lodged itself in the ground by his foot.

"Who are you?" A low, heavily accented voice demanded from the shadows.

"We are Young Justice, Robin's team. She is not well and has sent us in her stead." Aqualad replied smoothly. The voice hummed in thought.

"Prove it."

M'gann squeaked a little at the aggressiveness in the stranger's tone and grasped Superboy's bicep.

"Well, we had thought she would tell you about us…" Kaldur continued. Another knife barely missed his ear.

"That's not good enough, fools; you'd better-" She paused. "Mmhm? Alright, alright. Yes, they're here with me now. Yes, one green one, a redhead, an archer… Alright, Robin. They'd better be worth my time."

They all started as a small figure suddenly leapt from the shadows of the roof. She straightened up and scrutinized them before shrugging. "You are all lucky your friend contacted me; otherwise, you would be dead." She said darkly.

"Are- Are you Saint?" M'gann braved. The new girl nodded, and suddenly her personality did a complete 180 as she smiled happily with a little more than half of her mouth.

"Indeed I am! Nice to be in your acquaintance." Saint chirped.

_This girl is creeping me out, guys! _Wally mentally exclaimed. The others agreed.

Saint was a girl who stood exactly five feet tall, very scrawny and waifish. She had very short blonde hair and big brown eyes, and beneath the right eye was a large blue teardrop tattoo. Piercings riddled her nostrils, ears, and even eyebrows, with a few on the right half of her bottom lip. She wore a sleeveless flowing white dress and no shoes. She had no utility belt or weapon sheath, nor did she wear a mask or gloves, like most heroes with secret identities did. A bright green ribbon was attached at one end to her right dress strap, crossed her clavicle and was secured with a yellow button on her left strap, then circled loosely around her left arm to end in a band around her palm, secured by a tiny loop around her thumb. Her bare feet were covered almost completely in purple vine-like tattoos.

But what was extremely disconcerting was the left side of her face. From the middle of her hairline to the left side of her chin was one large row of stitches, with two smaller rows branching off between her mouth and eye and separating her cheek into several 'pieces'. The far left side of her mouth, from the corner to where the main row of stitches crossed over her lips, was sewn completely shut. All skin on the left side of the dividing row was deeply calloused and scarred, a brownish-red color. A few similar marks could be seen on her left upper arm and across her wrist.

_I mean, I'm sure she was very pretty before she got her face mutilated… but hey, at least she's got nice boobs going for her. _Wally once again commented mentally, making all of the teens want to facepalm.

"Nice to meet you, Saint. I am Aqualad, and these are my teammates, Kid Flash, Miss Martian, Superboy, and Artemis. We will be working with you to retrieve Robin's sons from the Joker."

Saint's eyebrow rose in surprise and she frowned on the right side of her mouth; the left corner stayed in a neutral line no matter what expression she made. "They're _her _boys? That makes sense, I suppose. Alright, here's the deal: a source of mine has learned that Joker plans to meet up with a local drug lord at the abandoned elementary school on Sixth- he's going there to pick up some sort of ally. He's not bringing the twins, as far as I can tell, but he did mention plans to introduce them to the new ally. I figure that if we follow him, we'll find where he's keeping them and we can continue on from there." Her only being able to use three-fourths of her mouth impeding her speech slightly and her thick- Italian? Spanish? They weren't very good with determining accents, but it was definitely one of the Romance languages- accent made it very hard for them to determine exactly what she was saying, but they got the general gist.

"Alright." Aqualad agreed.

"Follow me!" Saint said, leaping from the roof easily. They watched as she flew through the air, dress elegantly sailing behind her. When she landed, she twirled a little and kicked up some gravel with her bare feet- she looked like a little girl in ballet. She released a peal of quiet laughter as she continued down the street.

As soon as they reached the roof across from the abandoned school, they got into position to stake it out.

"Do you have any powers, Saint?" M'gann asked politely after a few minutes of awkward silence. The blonde looked up from her keen observation of the empty school and smiled.

"Sorta. When I was little, Baba unlocked some of my abilities passed down through her bloodline. I was only two, though, and she was run out before she could properly teach me anything useful…" She explained.

"Wait- Ba-who?" Wally interrupted. Saint rolled her eyes.

"Baba- my paternal grandmother."

"Ah."

"What sort of abilities?" Artemis inquired without taking her gaze from the darkened building.

"Well… When I produce tears, my body releases a defensive spell into them and, if I flick them at somebody, they are instantly knocked out. I've learned to cry on command to better use this. If I cry under _extreme_ emotional provocation _and_ feel a threat towards my life at the same time, something else happens- something harder to control and much deadlier. It's only happened once, accidentally, and I'd rather not discuss it."

"Oh… kay…. Those are oddly specific…" KF commented. Saint smiled.

"Yes, they are, aren't they? Oop- hang on, please." She requested, walking to the other end of the roof. "And no eavesdropping, Kryptonian!" She called as a second thought. Conner grunted but didn't reply.

She put her hand to her ear and mumbled.

"She's kinda cool, I s'pose." Wally said to his girlfriend, who shrugged. There was no movement so far in the abandoned school.

"I'm baaack!" Saint called and returned to the edge of the roof.

"Hey, Saint? Why don't you wear a mask? With… scars… like that, it would be easy for people to find out your secret identity!" M'gann said.

"Oh, I am not worried about my identity! I can give you my _name _and I guarantee you won't find me in your systems."

"What, are you an illegal immigrant? A ghost? You're a ghost, aren't you?" Kid Flash accused, poking her shoulder. Saint grinned patiently.

"I assure you, I both human _and_ a legal citizen. You just would never find me." Kid, always eager to call someone's bluff, smirked.

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?"

"Elizabeth Ann Seton." Came the immediate reply.

"_Oh_… uh, yeah? Well, that's not your _real_ name, is it?"

"Do you really think I would lie?"

"I dunno- I just _met_ you!"

"Well I assure you, I don't lie to fellow heroes." Elizabeth said, pointedly turning her attention back to their observance.

"But-" Artemis elbowed him in the ribs, stopping further debate.

"I have eyes on the Joker." Superboy said, ceasing all other activities. They watched as a man in a trench coat casually strolled down the street.

"You sure that's him?"

"I'd recognize _that _voice anywhere. He's mumbling to himself." The figure disappeared inside of the school.

"Ah. What's the plan, Chief?" Wally asked Saint. She scratched at her stitches absently and thought.

"Well, my main priority is the children. We wait until he leads us back to them." They all nodded in agreement until Superboy chimed in with, "He's got them with him right now. They're whimpering."

"_What_? That changes everything! New plan: sneak in and get the twins before anyone harms them. In and out- we clear?"

"Remember, Team: Do not engage unless necessary. Robin is more experienced with this particular villain, and since she is not here, we must take extra precautions." Aqualad reminded the others. They quickly jumped into action, stealthily working their way into the abandoned school building. Aqualad and Superboy went through the backdoor, M'gann and Wally used their powers to sneak through a side door undetected, and Artemis grappled to the roof as Saint slipped through a bathroom window.

_I hear voices in the room to our left- first floor, east corner. _The Kryptonian sent through their mental link.

_It's a gymnasium. There are ten people besides Joker._ Aqualad added.

_I see them- nine men, one woman. _

_Hey- where's Saint?_

_She's up in the rafters._ They all regrouped in the hallway and slipped into the far end of the gym, remaining in the shadows and hiding under the musty bleachers. Only one row of the fluorescents was on, showing a large group of people in a deep discussion. The leader of the other nine was a burly man with a cigar between his fat fingers. At his side was a blonde who was giggling incessantly and making flirty faces at the Joker.

"Are you good with kids, Miranda?" The clown asked slyly. She giggled a ditzy giggle and winked.

"Good at makin' em, Mistah J." Miranda replied. The leader growled and placed an arm on her shoulder. He glared at the Joker.

"I'm not sure I likes you takin' my daughtah after all. C'mon, Mands, we're out." He said sternly.

"Oh, pity. What will I do with these, then?" Joker drawled, opening his coat to reveal two infants strapped to his sides, squirming and fussing slightly. Miranda pulled away from her father and ran over.

"Aweh! They're so _precious_! Sure, I'll be ya Harley, Mistah J!" She crooned, poking the bigger twin's cheek and making him cry harder.

_Alright, prepare to move in, everyone. _Aqualad ordered. They all tensed in preparation.

"This one is Jay, and the runty one is Jacob. Quite the lookers, eh?" Miranda giggled again. Miranda's father stepped forward, reaching for his gun.

Five of his goons collapsed.

"Uh?"

Three more fell bonelessly to the ground.

"What the hell?" And then he was crushed by a small form falling directly onto his shoulders, driving him to the ground- he was down for the count.

"Daddy!" Miranda cried, only to be punched in the face by a livid Saint. The woman shrieked before fleeing, blood running from her nose.

"Ah, well. Wasn't quite intelligent enough, it turns out." Joker sighed, bouncing the twins. "And who might you be, lovely lady?" The blonde whipped to face him, snarling. "Oh my! What beautiful scars you have! Would you like to know where I got mine?"

_Aqualad- should we engage? _Artemis demanded, dropping to a running stance.

_I get the feeling that we would only impede. We wait and see if she needs backup- otherwise, let's try to avoid putting ourselves against the likes of him. _He decided.

"No, _Jack_, but I _can_ tell you where you're _going _to have scars!" Saint snapped, drying her tears.

_Why isn't she using tears? Isn't that how she knocks them out?_ Wally asked.

_I do not know- but I get the feeling that this is more personal than we first thought_.

"Oh, what a vivacious little tramp you are! Look at those feet! Where are your shoes, young lady?" She growled and launched herself at him, but had to back off when he pulled Damian up to protect his face.

"You _coward_!" The girl seethed. He laughed insanely and did not argue. "Give them to me!" Timothy started wailing, making the teen tense further.

"I think not, my new plaything. We barely even know each other!" He tutted, pulling a gun from his belt. She froze. "What's your name, princess?" The Joker's voice was suddenly much more menacing and cold.

"My name is Elizabeth Ann Seton. You can call me Saint, you bastard." Saint snapped, spitting on him from the right corner of her mouth.

He paused before carelessly aiming the barrel of the gun in Damian's general direction. "Hang on, hang on. Your name, little angel- it sounds quite familiar… perhaps from my churchgoing days, oh so long ago?" His demonic smile spread. "You see, my father was a devout Catholic, and I happen to recall one particular patron saint... oh, what _was _her name?" Now he was just taunting, and they could all tell.

"I don't care _where _you've heard my name! Give me the boys, _now_!" She pulled at a white sash around her waist and revealed a collection of throwing knives. One was imbedded in the ground right next to his foot as a warning.

"Aw, Lizzie! Don't be so mean! You see, these are my sons. You're trying to kidnap them from me- and yet I'm somehow the bad guy?" Saint opened her mouth to retort, but shut it after a moment before scanning over him calculatingly, expertly throwing a blade and slicing a deep gash down his gun arm. He only laughed in response and aimed the gun at her.

"Oh, my underdressed little doll. Your scars tell me you have experience… but you're so naïve." Before she could dodge, a bullet hit her right in the side. She cried out and popped a stitch on her lip, but then regained her footing even as the Team rushed out to aid her. She held up a hand to keep them at bay; now it was time for her last resort.

"Those are _not _your sons, Joker." She started striding forward boldly. He seemed a little surprised by this, but still kept the gun trained on her. Timothy and Damian were both crying loudly now, the sound earsplitting. They were terrified. "Genetically, they may be related to you. But _they are not your sons_." Her face was contorted with fury as she stood directly in front of him, hand clutching her wounded side. Crocodile tears fell down her face from red, haunted eyes. "And you will give them to me now, because _they are __**mine**_." Her eyes seemed to glow and all fell silent. Even the twins were quieter with their sobs.

"_What_?" Artemis breathed.

"A-Aggie?" Wally stuttered disbelievingly. The girl ignored them and continued to stare at her tormentor, her enemy, her _prey_.

"Oh, my barefoot baby mother." Joker said calmly, smile growing. "I was wondering when this final confrontation would finally occur. I've been eagerly awaiting your return, little birdie." His tone became mocking and frightening. "You think you can take _my _sons from me? Your job is done- you're useless now. They don't need you, and they'll never know you. Besides being their incubator, your life is worth absolutely nothing."

He raised the gun with his unhurt arm.

"You…" Sain- _Agatha_ whispered, sounding broken. Her tears increased tenfold and her breathing became hysterical. "You've just made your final mistake."

"Oh, you are such a drama queen." He drawled. A salty droplet hit his chin, making him pause. "Eh?" Confused, he reached his hand up….

And shot himself in the head, splattering his brains on the floor.

Artemis screamed along with M'gann, and Superboy growled as Aqualad and Wally rushed forward futilely.

"Stay back!" Agatha screeched, squatting defensively in front of the body. The two boys froze again. "Stay where you are!"

Wally raised his arms to placate. "Aggie…"

"_No!_" She panicked; she had killed someone… there was nowhere she could go now. What could she do? She hadn't planned for this! She was… a _murderer_. The thought made her sick to her stomach.

A wail from behind her caught her attention. Oh, her sweet, sweet babies! They were so close! The urge to forget everything and hug them forever was so, so strong. She wanted them so badly. Needed them. But how could she take care of them when the others would surely lock her up for killing a human being? She couldn't stand the thought of further separation!

Before she could think, she had grabbed her only smoke bomb and thrown it directly at her friends, scrambling to unbuckle the straps of the harness before securing it around her own sides, making sure her twins were safe and intact before using the cover of smoke, confusion and darkness to escape.

She was long gone by the time the fog had cleared, leaving five brokenhearted protégées behind.

"Aggie…" Wally whimpered, knowing that she was gone. When she wanted to disappear, even the fastest teen alive would never find her.

He fell to his knees.

Why did life have to be so screwed up?

**Cliffy? Plot twist! (Did that twist take anyone by surprise, or was it blatantly obvious and I'm an idiot and this was terrible?) Anywho, sorry if this seemed rushed. I thought up the main climax and then couldn't WAIT to write it, meaning I had zero patience for typing out long, detailed rising action. I personally like this chapter, and I really like the idea of Saint being one of Robin's disguises. Saint probably won't make an appearance again, though :/  
**

**BTW, Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton was a real person, and is the patron saint against child death amongst other things. I am not Catholic, and learned most of this info on Wikipedia, and I mean no offense to any Catholic readers- I saw it and thought it would be a creative idea! If it's offensive, please PM me explaining why and I'll repost this chapter with a different name.**

**I'm in kind of a funk lately, because I've posted two new stories- one has only gotten an average of 1 review per chapter, from the same person every time, and the other has yet to receive even a single review- and have updated one other story- my most popular one, and yet my latest chapter got literally no response whatsoever. I don't mean for this to sound whiny- I genuinely want to know so I can improve: is there something about my writing that makes it dumb or boring or unoriginal? Please let me know. It's depressing when there's literally no feedback, not even some to tell you what you're doing wrong!**

**Anywho, that's all I've got for tonight, folks. I drew (GASP!) what Agatha looks like as Saint and it should be up on DeviantArt sometime within the next few days, depending on my internet connection. My account name is the same as my FF username, and I've only posted like four things so far, so you'll be able to find the drawing when it's up. Keep in mind that I'm a writer, not an artist, and it took me days to draw and color this to my own satisfaction- I am nowhere near as artistically gifted as most people, so please don't hate on it! :D **

**Guys, Merry Christmas from the bottom of my Robin-whumping heart!**


	12. Chapter 12

**ATTENTION: This is the final chapter of this story! I've looked over the previous chapters and have decided that this is a good place to end. HOWEVER, I am thinking of making a sequel; if you'd like to see a sequel, please say so in a review or visit my bio, where I'll have a poll about it. It's been an honor and a privilege to write this story, and I hope you all have enjoyed reading it!**

**Thank you to all of my reviewers, especially- without your encouragement, this story wouldn't have gotten nearly as far!**

**Now, without further ado, here is the final chapter of Lullabies and Broken Wings. Enjoy!**

Agatha finished ripping the sticky material from her face, officially clearing it of all 'scars'. She wadded it up and threw it into the small wastebasket beside her sink, feeling an amazing sense of relief at its riddance. She didn't have to act anymore.

From the other room, Timothy began to cry.

"Coming, Sweetheart!" She called happily, sprinting into the small bedroom and pulling the infant into her arms. "Oh, baby… I love you, you know that?" She asked rhetorically, rubbing her nose against his. He immediately calmed at her presence, staring at her with wide blue eyes. Those were _her _eyes, and seeing them on him… Well, the feeling was quite surreal. Her heart fluttered as she gazed on her son for the first genuine time in weeks. He was healthy, uninjured and well fed. She couldn't be happier for that. His hair had grown in some; a bit curlier and thicker than it had been at his birth.

She turned her attention to the sleeping baby on the bed. He was laid flat on his back, bent arms on either side of his head and curled legs spread out slightly. His tiny chest rose and fell steadily with each blessed breath, and his little eyelashes fluttered as he dreamed. He would occasionally lick his lips noisily or scrunch up his face.

"I love you both… I love you." Agatha whispered with tears in her eyes. She hadn't known if she'd ever get to say that to them. "You're so beautiful, and so smart, and you're going to be the best little boys on this earth!" She continued, sitting carefully on the bed next to Damian and rocking Timothy to soothe him. "I don't care _who _your father is… was. You'll be nothing like him. You'll be the finest citizens anyone has ever seen, and then I'll rub it in Bruce's…" She cut off, voice cracking.

Damian fussed a little, so she gently rested Timmy in her folded legs before pulling the older twin into her arms. It was rather dark in the bedroom to help the infants sleep, but that didn't obstruct her view of Dami's emerald eyes when he sleepily opened them to look at her adoringly.

Gat had been slightly fearful that, upon seeing those Joker-esque eyes, she might react negatively or not look at him the same way. Sure, she'd been fine during those hours after his birth, but that could have just been hormones overwhelming her.

Thankfully, the only thing she felt for him was love. His eye color was beautiful, and symbolized nothing about his personality- he would be kind, considerate, and _good_, she could feel it.

A small, teary smile turned up the corners of her lips. "You're going to prove your grandfather wrong, Dami. You too, Timmy. You've got such a bright future." She kissed their foreheads and chuckled a little when Damian squirmed.

How she had missed them! She felt complete with them in her arms, safe and sound.

Well, almost complete. Her team, her father… They weren't there. And they would never be there for her again, she was certain of that. After all, even family can't be 100% forgiving after you've killed someone.

She'd used her rarely revealed power of suicidal suggestion on the father of her children. She hadn't gone into that school with the intentions of doing such a thing- her goal had been solely to rescue her sons. But he'd struck a nerve, and seeing him there, threatening her babies… She'd intentionally gotten him to say cruel things to activate the fight-or-flight response. She'd intentionally made him kill himself.

What somewhat scared her, on an ignored level of her subconscious, was that she didn't regret it. Not one bit.

No, what she regretted were the _consequences_. She could never face her family again. Her team would hate her after what she'd done- her father, too, considering she'd broken their one rule of not killing. Besides, he'd made it clear he didn't like the idea of having the twins in his house- so she'd spare him the trouble and live someplace else.

She sang them a lullaby in her native tongue, one twin in each arm, and rocked them until they were both pulled back into a peaceful slumber. Then she carefully laid them side-by-side on the cheap apartment's mattress, fixing up the barrier of pillows on both sides of the bed to prevent them from falling off.

Agatha stealthily made her way to the kitchenette, plopping into the single foldable dining chair and resting her elbows on the card table. She rubbed at the headache that was beginning to form behind her eyes at the constant stream of thoughts revolving around what she had resolved to leave behind. Could she do this? Was she ready for this?

The answer wasn't that simple.

She needed to stay away from the people she'd surely hurt, but she couldn't do this on her own. She had two babies to look after, and getting a job would be difficult. She'd just barely secured this tiny apartment with the 'just in case' money she'd kept in her sash.

She needed to get ahold of her money at Wayne Manor, but she also needed to stay away.

She settled for an in-between and pulled out the holo-button she'd fastened to the green sash of her Saint disguise.

The screen came to life and she smiled a little before opening an encrypted email window and beginning to type.

_Bruce,_

_Don't come looking for me- I'm long gone. Don't worry, though, because I'll be safe; this is what I want- NEED- to do. I broke our one rule when I killed Joker, and I can't bring myself to face you right now. The Team will be fine without me, I'm sure. Don't beat yourself up or drive everyone out, either. Go on living your life- I'll come back to you when I'm ready to. Until then, I need all of the allowance I've saved over the years. You're the only one who has access to it, and I would appreciate it if you could transfer it to the online bank account listed below. I'm depending on you for that._

_I don't expect to be back for a good year or so, so don't obsess over waiting for me. I'll take care of myself and the boys, and when you meet them next they'll be the kindest, best children you've ever met. I know you don't want them in your house, and while I can't say I in any way agree with it, I can accept that that's your stance for now. As such, I would appreciate it if you rethought your opinion on them so that I can bring them with me if I come back to speak with you in person one day._

_Tell the Team I love them. Tell Alfred I love him. Know that I love you._

_-Aggie_

Angry as she still was over his hesitance to accept her sons, she couldn't stop herself from adding her love to the short email. He'd come around eventually, and her being cruel would not help.

Before she lost her nerve, she pressed 'send' and watched the progress bar as the message was sent.

She expected him to be angry. To deny her the money. To pull every single trick he could think of to track her down and drag her to the base for punishment.

What she didn't expect was an emailed response just two days later.

She'd just finished changing Timmy's diaper- damn, she was running out and had no money to buy more!- when the holo-button alerted her to an encrypted email received. She laid the smaller twin on a blanket on the floor and handed him a cheap plastic baby toy to entertain him. Damian was napping.

Agatha pulled up the display and her heart skipped a beat when she found that the mysterious email was from her father. How had he tracked her email address? She'd taken extra precautions to avoid that so he couldn't send endless messages, begging her to return.

Her finger shook as she clicked on the message, and her eyes hungrily took in the reply.

_Agatha,_

_I understand your decision- I once did the same thing you did, and that's consequently how I learned the fighting skills I use. It's hard for me to let you go- you're sixteen now, and you've got two babies to care for- but I do know that you need some time away from what you know to "find yourself". Just know that you always have a home at the Manor, and Batman will await the day his Robin returns._

_As for the boys- Agatha, you seem to have taken my hesitance the wrong way back when you asked me if they had me to count on. While I hate the idea that _he _is their father, the fact that you, my daughter, are their mother guarantees that they'll be raised into good. It's just… I was overwhelmed and didn't know what to say. I genuinely look forward to seeing them in the future._

_I know you're afraid that I'm angry about what you did. But do you want to know why killing is against our code? It's because I killed, once, before you were around. He was a criminal, and I saw no other choice at the time, but I felt immeasurably guilty that his mother was now raising his young children. Anyway, just know that I don't hold it against you- I've seen KF-Cam footage of the incident (don't tell him his emblem has a camera in it, by the way) and all evidence points to it being a necessary evil. He was threatening your sons. I would kill for you, and I wouldn't hold you to a standard that I, myself, cannot meet._

_While we're on the topic- I didn't know you had powers. I assume, from the fact that you've never used it in my presence, and the fact that it can kill people, that it's something you don't like to use. I won't punish you for keeping it from me- just make sure nobody is unnecessarily hurt by it._

_I've transferred your money as requested, and have taken the liberty of setting up monthly transfers of extra 'allowance' to help you live comfortably. I won't use it to track you, since I know that would break your trust in me._

_Agatha, daughter, please take care- be cautious, even if it seems too paranoid. Always keep a phone, weapon, and spare mask on your person- you don't want old enemies finding you again. I would also suggest making some change to your appearance to better conceal yourself._

_Last of all, I want you to find a city, settle there, and make a new group of friends. I know I'm not one to talk about being social, but take it from someone who's turned his back on friendly help/advice too many times: friends that you can rely on are the most valuable resource you can have. Find a few and bond with them- the Team will understand._

_But NO BOYS. I mean it._

_Be safe and be happy, Gatzi. You're out on your own now, so unfortunately I can't be there to protect you- though I suppose I've done a fairly lousy job of it so far. I'll handle everything on this end and make a cover story for you. You just worry about your sons. _

_I have one more thing to ask of you: tell the twins about me. I want them to know me at least somewhat when we meet again. I do love them, Aggie, and please let them know that._

_If you ever need anything at all, don't hesitate to get in touch with me._

_I love you._

_-Bruce_

A tear fell from her eye and she didn't care. Her faith in her father was restored tenfold, and she was touched. He cared about her, but he also cared enough to know when to let her go- at least for a while, until she was ready to face him again. He didn't hate her for what she did.

Knowing that she had a welcoming home to fall back on should things turn bad for her small family was immensely comforting, and she now felt that she could, in fact, do this. He was right- she did need to find herself and forgive herself for letting her babies get taken from her. She needed to take a break from the team that had seen too much of the dark side she regretted possessing.

But now she was sure that, whatever happened, everything would be okay.

A big grin on her face, Agatha ran into the living room and swept Timmy into her arms, the child giggling happily.

"D'you know what, little man?" She asked as she held him close. "We're going to be just fine!" The glee she felt from being able to honestly say that completely filled her. "We're going to be okay!" The baby gurgled and weakly punched her chin. She just laughed and tickled under his. "Our little family is going to be perfectly fine!"

_Line Break_

Agatha woke up at seven the next morning, one infant snugly nestled into each of her sides. She smiled despite her tiredness and snuck out into the kitchen to grab some cereal before the twins woke up for their feeding. She scanned the bus schedule again and again, double-checking her plan and making sure everything was in order. Then she slipped into some plain civvies- jeans and a breastfeeding shirt- and packed all of their clothing into the single duffle bag she'd bought with the money Bruce had sent.

By the time all of that was taken care of, Damian was fussing and squirming. Hearing his cries, she dropped her hairbrush into the bag and picked him up, settling his heavy head on her shoulder. His chubby little cheek was squished against her shoulder, and drool slipped out of the corner of his mouth. Spotting the wet spot on her shirt, she chuckled with an exasperated sigh.

"Can't wear anything nice with you, can I?" She teased. Her son grunted and cooed hungrily. "I know, I know. Don't worry, breakfast is ready." She sat on the couch and put the boppy pillow around her waist, positioning him and beginning to breastfeed him. He ate greedily for nearly ten minutes before falling asleep, still attached to her.

"Oh, Dami." She crooned fondly, putting the rag over her shoulder and burping him. She felt the warmth of the spit-up he produced, thankful that she'd bought the burp she laid him back beside his twin and grabbed Timothy to repeat the process.

By nine, she had them both dressed for the chilly weather and was ready to depart. She made a final payment to the owner of the apartment, strapped the twins into their stroller, pulled on a baggy hoodie, and threw the duffle over her shoulder.

Then she walked to the nearest bus stop, where she boarded the first bus to Jump City.

**AAANDDD… Scene! Lame ending, right? I just felt like doing something domestic and simple, so I wrote it!**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I enjoyed writing it! :D**

**Alright, so- let's talk sequel. Want one? It would mostly detail Aggie's life raising the twins with the Titans, and would, of course, feature her relationship with male!Starfire- I love this pairing, and she does need **_**someone**_** to fall in love with! Wally would be too weird, considering he's like her older brother, so…. Yeah. Why get creative when the comics/cartoons provide it for you?**

**Anywho, tell me your stance on a sequel in either a review or by voting on the poll I'm putting on my bio! I'm eager to see what ya'll want!**

**If the sequel is green-lighted, I'll post the first chapter on February 20****th****\- so mark it on your calendars! ;)**

**Thank you for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing! You guys are the absolute best! I loved writing this story, and, should you choose it, I would love writing a sequel! Have a fabulous day!**

**God bless!**

**-Violet**


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